Page 19 of Slightly Married (Irresistible #2)

T he weight of Kayla’s nude body against my chest was the first thing I registered upon waking. Her head rested directly over my heart, one arm draped possessively across my torso.

Her silk bonnet had shifted in her sleep, covering her face completely. Her breathing was deep and even, and I remained perfectly still, reluctant to disturb her rest.

Carefully, I brushed my thumb across her shoulder, marveling at the contrast of her skin against mine. A month ago, I couldn’t have imagined this scenario.

Now, I struggled to remember what life felt like without her. I would often reach for my phone to share a business development she’d find amusing, listened for her laughter during my morning coffee and expected her commentary when I selected my clothes.

Elana had been my first love. Reserved and vain. Our relationship progressed along predictable milestones. Stella represented security and loyalty. Her devotion was unwavering. But Kayla... she defied classification.

She was unpredictable, challenging, and genuine.

My phone vibrated on the nightstand—Stella, likely wanting to commiserate on the anniversary of her brother’s death. I should answer and offer a few words of kindness.

Yet I made no move to reach for the phone, made no attempt to extract myself from beneath Kayla’s sleeping form. Instead, I studied her fingers occasionally twitching against my skin.

Stella could wait. The world could wait.

Kayla’s head lifted, and she shifted the bonnet back before her eyes fluttered open, meeting mine with sleepy confusion before warming with recognition.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, stretching against me like a contented cat.

“Observing,” I corrected, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “There’s a difference.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, pressing a kiss to my chest before sitting up. “What’s the plan for today? More sailing?”

“Actually,” I said, sitting up, “I thought we might attend Mass. There’s a small church in the village where Theo and I had our communion together.”

“You want me to come to church with you?”

“I do.” I hadn’t planned this, but it seemed the best way to honor my friend.

She hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the sheet. “I didn’t exactly shop for church services.”

“You’ll be fine,” I assured her, dragging her up to kiss her lips. “Wear that blue dress you ordered. The one whose length you were complaining about.”

An hour later, we stood before the small stone church, holding hands. I watched Kayla absorb the details of the worn stone steps and the flickering candles visible through the open doors.

“This is cute,” she whispered.

Inside, the scent of incense enveloped us. We moved together through the rituals of service. When the elderly woman beside us whispered something, Kayla responded, and the woman beamed in delight.

Midway through the service, the priest called us forward with a warm smile. I felt Kayla tense beside me.

“It’s customary for visitors to receive a blessing,” I murmured, guiding her forward. “Trust me.”

The priest blessed our union, saying, “May your marriage be fruitful with children and abundant in joy.” I felt her hand tighten in mine.

After service, we lit candles for Theo, the twin flames dancing in the still air. Watching her bow her head and whisper a prayer for the departed—for a man she’d never met—made me want to marry her again.

The remainder of the day passed in quiet reflection and connection. We shared a simple lunch at a local taverna, where Kayla listened as I shared stories of my childhood friend.

As evening approached, the weight of the day’s emotions left me craving the simplicity of natural beauty. “Would you like to walk along the shore before dinner?” I suggested when the documentary about dolphins we were watching ended.

She smiled. “I’d love that.”

We strolled along the beach, holding hands, and the anniversary of Theo’s death weighed on me less. We reached a perfect crescent of sand sheltered by rocky outcroppings on either side. The setting sun painted the water in shades of amber and gold.

“It’s beautiful,” Kayla breathed, slipping off her sandals to feel the sand between her toes.

“Private, too,” I added.

Her eyes met mine, and she smiled, reaching for the zipper of her dress. As it fell away, I realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “Race you to the water,” she challenged.

Minutes later, we both stood naked and waist-deep in the calm sea, the last rays of sunlight warming our bare shoulders. The water felt pleasantly cool compared to the lingering heat of the day.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, her arms encircling my neck.

“That I want to remember this.”

Her legs wrapped around my waist as I carried her deeper into the water. She leaned in, her lips brushing against mine in a soft, tender kiss. I deepened the kiss, my hands spreading wide across her buttocks, holding her closer.

As we kissed, her hips ground against mine. The surrounding water seemed to amplify every sensation, every touch. I let my hands wander, tracing the curves of her body, feeling the smoothness of her skin beneath the surface.

I positioned myself at her entrance, and her pussy swallowed me inch by inch.

The sensation was exquisite, with the warmth of her body enveloping me and the water creating a gentle resistance. I let out a low groan, gripping her hips, guiding her movements.

She began to move, slowly at first, her body rising and falling in a rhythm that was both torturous and divine. The water lapped against us, creating a gentle, sensual rhythm.

Her movements became more urgent, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. I could feel her tightening around me, her body trembling as she neared climax. I held her closer, my own body tensing as I felt my release building.

“K,” she panted.

“I’m here.” I murmured.

And with those words, her body tightened around me, her cry swallowed by the sound of the sea. I followed her, my climax tearing through me and stealing my breath.

We remained joined for several long moments, our lips exchanging kisses as the water cradled us. The warm breeze dried the droplets on our exposed skin as our breathing returned to normal.

Two days after attending church service together, we lounged lazily on the veranda, soaking in the early afternoon breeze. Kayla sat between my legs on a cushioned chaise, her back against my chest as she scrolled through her phone.

The terrace overlooked the Ionian Sea, its azure waters stretching endlessly toward the horizon where it blended seamlessly with the sky. Potted bougainvilleas cascaded over the stone balustrade in vibrant explosions of magenta.

My phone vibrated on the side table. I glanced over and saw Stella’s message.

I’m getting worried, Kostas. Please call me.

It was her fourth message today. After three weeks of ignoring Stella’s communications, I knew I couldn’t delay the inevitable conversation any longer.

“I need to return to Athens,” I stated, my voice betraying none of the reluctance I felt.

Kayla stiffened against me, then pulled away, setting her phone down as she rose from the chaise.

“Was that Stella?”

“Yes,” I confirmed, watching as her expression hardened.

Stella had been calling daily throughout the past weeks, leaving increasingly urgent messages that I’d ignored. Each missed call had added to my growing certainty about what needed to happen next.

“Then go!” Kayla snapped, her voice carrying a brittleness I hadn’t heard before.

“It’s not what you think,” I began, needing her to understand. “I need to speak with her in person to—”

“To what? Explain that you’ve achieved your goal of getting me pregnant and you’re ready to begin your lives together?” Her laugh held no humor. “Don’t worry, I understand perfectly.”

“Kayla,” I tried again, stepping toward her. “These weeks together have meant something to me. They’ve changed how—”

“Save it,” she interrupted, raising her hand. “I knew what this was from the beginning.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears that she blinked away.

“If you would just listen—”

“Get the fuck out. Go! You’ve taken all you’ve wanted from me!”

Taken what I wanted?

The accusation stung. As if these three weeks had been merely transactional, as if what had grown between us meant nothing beyond physical release. Her words created a distance greater than any physical separation could achieve.

What I had wanted from her wasn’t what she implied. Yes, the physical connection had been undeniable, but what I truly craved was her unfiltered honesty, the way she challenged my assumptions and refused to be intimidated by my demeanor.

I wanted her laughter during breakfast, her perspectives that differed so completely from my own, her ability to make me see familiar things in new ways.

I wanted the person who had sat with quiet understanding when I spoke of Theo, who had asked the difficult questions others avoided, who had made me feel not just desired but genuinely heard.

My initial instinct was to correct her misunderstanding, but pride kept me silent. If she could so quickly reduce what we’d shared to something base, perhaps I’d misread everything.

Without a word, I stood and walked away. I felt her eyes on my back as I moved through the doorway, but I refused to turn.

The moment I arrived in Athens, I headed directly to Stella’s apartment. When she opened the door, her face brightened with unmistakable relief.

“You’re back,” she said, voice tinged with excitement.

“May I come in?” I requested, maintaining a respectful distance. “I won’t be long.”

Her expression faltered. “Kostas, you’re scaring me.”

“Are you going to invite me in?” I kept my voice even, though impatience threatened my composure.

“Not if you’re here to break my heart.” Her attempt at lightness couldn’t mask the genuine fear in her eyes.

She stepped aside, allowing me to enter the apartment we’d chosen together. I remained standing, refusing the comfort of familiar surroundings.

Stella had been there during the darkest period of my life. She’d changed bandages, managed medications, coordinated with doctors.

I owed her my life in many ways. Yet I couldn’t give her what she truly wanted. My heart.

“Would you like some wine?” she offered, her hands fidgeting with the bracelet I’d given her for her birthday. “I’ve been saving that Bordeaux you love.”

“No, thank you.” I exhaled slowly. “When I proposed, we both understood it was to make right what we’d done while I was drunk.”

“We’ve moved past that, Kostas,” she insisted, clasping my hand. “We’ve come to appreciate each other. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

The confession wasn’t unexpected, but it still pained me to hear it spoken aloud. Theo would have wanted me to care for his sister, to protect her. Instead, I was about to cause her pain.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Stella, because I don’t feel the same.”

“Is this about Kayla?” Her voice sharpened. “Has she seduced you away from me?”

I shook my head. “This has nothing to do with her.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t entirely false either.

The past few months had simply illuminated the fundamental incompatibility at the core of our relationship.

“It’s about us. There’s no passion between us, no foundation for the kind of partnership marriage requires.

You deserve someone who appreciates your qualities in ways I cannot. ”

“You’re good for me, Konstantin!” Desperation crept into her tone, and tears gathered in her eyes. “We’re good together. I promise. What can I do to prove we belong together?”

Her question twisted something inside me. How many times had she adapted herself to fit what she thought I wanted? How long had she been performing rather than simply being?

“That’s just it, Stella. You shouldn’t have to prove yourself.” I reached into my jacket, withdrawing an envelope containing the deed to her condo and a substantial check. “These are yours. You should never need to worry about security.”

She stared at the envelope without taking it, her eyes glistening. “So that’s it? A payoff? After everything we’ve been through?” Her voice trembled. “What will I tell everyone? What will I tell my father?”

The mention of her father added another layer of complication. This would affect more than just us.

“The truth,” I said. “That we tried, but we aren’t right for each other.”

“And what about Theo?” she whispered, her question striking directly at my deepest guilt. “He wanted us together. He told me so before—before—”

I closed my eyes briefly. Had my friend truly wanted this, or was Stella revising history to fit her desires? I would never know.

“Theo wanted happiness for both of us,” I said carefully. “Not obligation masquerading as love.”

A single tear escaped, tracking down her cheek. “I’ll be waiting when you change your mind.”

“Don’t.” I placed the envelope on the side table and pressed a final kiss to her cheek. I could feel her trembling beneath my lips. “Find happiness, Stella. Real happiness.”

She didn’t respond, turning away as her shoulders began to shake with silent sobs. Every instinct told me to comfort her, to ease her pain. But any kindness now would only prolong the inevitable and offer false hope.

I moved toward the door, pausing only once to look back at the woman who had saved my life. “I am grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I always will be.”

“Just go,” she whispered, not turning around.

As I returned to the car, the silence seemed to press in around me. I had done what was necessary, what was right, but satisfaction eluded me.

Stella had been a steady presence during my recovery, and ending our engagement felt like severing another connection to Theo. Had I betrayed my friend by walking away from his sister?

Disheartened, I instructed my driver to return to the airstrip. I needed to get back to Corfu and set right what I’d left in disarray.