Playing Fire with My Ice-King BOSS: V-Card for One Night, Ring Forever - Chapter 23: Chapter 23

Isabelle's POV
At eleven PM, I finally finished organizing my portfolio, my hands still trembling slightly from our earlier tension.
I glanced over at Jeremiah, desperately needing to escape before I did something stupid. "I'm going to bed now."
But he actually closed his laptop with deliberate slowness. "I'm done too."
Fuck. I'd never seen him stop working this early before.
My mind spiraled into pure panic as I headed to the bathroom.
Was tonight going to be... the night? Because I was definitely not ready for whatever was about to happen.
Sure enough, we both ended up lying in his massive bed together, the space between us crackling with unspoken tension.
Click! The lights went out.
Darkness enveloped us, and with it came my absolute terror mixed with something else I didn't want to examine too closely.
I curled up on my side at the very edge of the bed, practically hanging off the mattress, while Jeremiah lay in the center like he owned the fucking world.
Sleep was impossible. I was so wired I was breaking out in a cold sweat, wanting to kick off the covers but not daring to move a muscle.
Then I felt it—warmth against my lower back, solid and undeniably male.
Before I could process what was happening, strong arms pulled me backward into his embrace.
I went rigid with shock, every nerve ending on fire as my body molded against his. I didn't dare move, terrified he might try something but also terrified he might not.
This level of intimacy was dangerous territory, and we both knew it.
He remained perfectly still too, and I could feel the tension radiating from his body as he fought for control.
"You..." My voice came out as barely a whisper, raw with fear and something darker.
My hands were clenched into painful fists, my entire body vibrating with nervous energy.
That single trembling word revealed everything—how scared I was, how helpless I felt, how much I wanted this despite myself.
Jeremiah's hand found my clenched fists in the darkness, his fingers working gently to massage the tension away until my hands relaxed and warmed under his touch.
"Relax. I won't touch you," he murmured against my hair, his voice rough with restraint.
The promise should have comforted me, but instead it made me ache with disappointment I had no right to feel.
Finally, I let myself melt into his warmth, my racing heart gradually slowing.
When I really thought about it, we'd only known each other for about a month—barely long enough to call ourselves friends, let alone whatever this complicated thing between us was becoming.
I slept better than I had in years, waking up naturally around ten without any alarm.
But when I groggily opened my eyes, I discovered I'd turned into a complete fucking octopus overnight.
Since I usually slept alone, I had a habit of hugging pillows or stuffed animals for comfort.
This time, I was wrapped around something much more solid and infinitely more dangerous.
I was clinging to Jeremiah like my life depended on it.
My hand was splayed possessively across his bare chest, rising and falling with each of his steady breaths. My face was nestled into the crook of his neck, close enough that I could smell his intoxicating scent and feel the warmth of his skin.
And most mortifying of all—my leg was hooked brazenly across his waist, my thigh pressed against parts of him that made my face burn with embarrassment.
I was afraid to move, completely horrified by my unconscious behavior but also secretly loving how perfectly I fit against him.
My sudden alertness must have changed my breathing because I felt rather than saw him wake up beside me.
"Morning," Jeremiah's voice was rougher than usual, gravelly with sleep and something else that made heat pool low in my belly.
Jesus Christ, had he been awake this whole time? Had he felt me exploring his body like some kind of horny koala?
"Morning," I managed, my voice coming out embarrassingly breathy.
We lay there in charged silence, both acutely aware of every point where our bodies touched, neither wanting to be the first to break the spell.
Finally, he spoke, asking something that made my brain short-circuit completely.
"Do you want..ME?" The question hung in the air between us, loaded with possibility.
His arm tightened almost imperceptibly around my waist, and I became hyperaware of how my silk pajamas had ridden up in the night, leaving very little between his hands and my bare skin.
Want to what? My mind immediately went to the most dangerous places. Did he mean what I thought he meant? Because my body was definitely voting yes even as my brain screamed warnings.
"No... I don't ..." I lied through my teeth, my voice shaking with the effort of denial.
Every cell in my body was betraying me, heating up under his touch, practically begging for more contact.
"Then..." He swallowed hard, and the sound of his Adam's apple moving sent shivers down my spine.
"How about takes your legs from me?" he asked, his voice strained with barely controlled desire.
The realization hit me like a freight train—he'd been lying there letting me practically dry hump him in my sleep, waiting for me to wake up and move.
Mortification flooded through me as I immediately flipped over and buried my burning face in the pillows.
He'd been the perfect gentleman while I'd been unconsciously molesting him all night.
I heard him exhale slowly, felt him carefully adjust the covers around me before getting up and heading to the bathroom.
The sound of running water lasted nearly thirty minutes, and I tried not to think about why he might need such a long, cold shower.
He went downstairs first, giving me space to collect myself and get dressed.
When I finally made it to the living room, my emotional equilibrium still completely fucked, I heard familiar voices.
I looked closer and nearly had a heart attack—Rachel Scott was sitting on our couch, deep in conversation with Jeremiah like they'd known each other for years.
"Ms. Scott?" I approached them, completely bewildered.
Jeremiah's dark eyes tracked my movement as I walked over, and I became suddenly self-conscious about my fitted t-shirt and how it clung to my curves.
"Hey Belly, sweetheart!" Rachel immediately stood and pulled me into a warm hug that smelled like expensive perfume and maternal comfort.
"What are you doing here?" I hugged her back, my mind reeling with confusion.
Jeremiah stood with fluid grace, a small smile playing at his lips. "You should probably call her Mom."
I blinked stupidly, looking between them and suddenly seeing the resemblance—the same elegant bone structure, the same intelligent eyes.
"Mom?" The word felt foreign on my tongue.
"Yes, darling!" Rachel's face lit up with genuine joy.
I looked at Jeremiah in shock, and his smile widened into something almost boyish.
What were the fucking odds?
Rachel took my hands in hers, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I never imagined it would be you! My Jeremy is usually so serious and work-focused, but you bring out this lighter side of him. He's been different since he met you—happier."
The way she was looking between us, like she could see something I wasn't ready to acknowledge, made my cheeks burn.
This felt like getting parental approval after the world's most unconventional courtship.
We talked for over an hour, Rachel regaling me with embarrassing childhood stories about Jeremiah while he watched us with an expression I couldn't quite read.
When she finally left, promising to have us over for dinner soon, the house felt strangely quiet.
Jeremiah and I settled at the kitchen island for breakfast, the air between us still charged from our morning encounter.
"I heard you picked out my clothes yesterday?" he asked, cutting into his eggs with precise movements.
"Yeah," I admitted, not daring to meet his eyes as memories of this morning flooded back.
"I really like your taste." His voice dropped to that low register that made my toes curl.
How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? Everything he said seemed loaded with double meaning now.
"Is there anything else you need to pack?" Jeremiah asked, sipping his coffee while watching me with those intense dark eyes.
I tried to think past the way he was looking at me. "I think I'm all set."
"Come upstairs when you're done. I have something for you," he said, standing and letting his hand briefly touch my shoulder as he passed.
The casual contact sent electricity shooting through my entire system.
"Okay," I managed weakly.
I took my time finishing breakfast, trying to calm my racing pulse, but eventually I had to face whatever awaited me upstairs.
Walking into the bedroom, I stopped dead in my tracks.
Jeremiah had packed both our suitcases with military precision—everything from formal wear to intimates, all perfectly organized and ready to go.
"You..." I stared at him in amazement, something warm and dangerous blooming in my chest.
Had this man actually been sent from heaven to save my chaotic life?
"Check this list and see if there's anything missing," he said, handing me a detailed inventory.
I scanned the document, my face heating up as I saw he'd catalogued everything down to the exact number of bras and panties I'd need.
The level of care and attention was both overwhelming and incredibly sexy.
This man was going to ruin me completely.