Page 7 of Strange Seduction (Strange #2)

Same Ol’ Mistakes.

Yep. STILL Arrival Day.

We took the elevator up in silence.

The suite was dim and quiet when we stepped inside, the city lights washing pale blue across the marble floors through the wide balcony windows. She kicked off her heels near the door with a soft groan and walked across the room, her movements slow, shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

I was about to retreat to the bedroom to give her a moment when she turned around, fingers struggling with the zipper of her dress.

“Can you help me with this?” she asked.

I froze for a second.

Her back was to me, hair falling in loose waves down her shoulders, and the red dress shimmered faintly in the low light. One strap had already slid off her shoulder, revealing smooth skin and the edge of her spine, and she reached for the zipper again but fumbled.

I stepped forward and gently brushed her hair aside, my fingers grazing the nape of her neck.

My knuckles skimmed her spine as I found the zipper and tugged it down slowly, careful not to catch the delicate fabric.

As the dress loosened around her, she let out a breath of relief. It pooled at her feet like water, and she stepped out of it with grace that looked too effortless for how exhausted she must’ve been.

I stood there longer than I should’ve, watching her in the soft, fractured moonlight. She turned her head slightly toward me, eyes half-lidded.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice rough. “Of course.”

The temptation to kiss her was immediate.

Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to her neck, feeling her body relax into the touch. A quiet moan escaped her lips as she leaned into me, her skin warm under my mouth.

I backed her gently toward the table, my hands exploring the curve of her waist, her body yielding to me. I kissed her again—this time deeper, more urgent, as though I couldn’t get enough.

But then I remember the call she had with Marcus and froze.

Suddenly, Vince’s words ran through my mind brutally.

Long-distance only works when someone’s too busy chasing their own shit to notice how miserable they are. So they settle for what they have, even if it’s a million miles away.

I pulled away, and she went still, her gaze unfocused.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Just need a shower to clear my head. It’s been a long day.”

She nodded, her brow furrowing slightly. “Oh, okay.”

And what about after that? Could I manage to perform after the day we both had? Or was it better to save everything until we were in a better headspace?

“Carmen,” I began. “I think we should talk a little after. Okay?”

She yawned. She was past exhausted at this point.

“Okay, Teddy.”

She walked toward the guest bathroom in just her strapless bra and panties, her silhouette lit by the glow spilling from under the bathroom door as she switched on the light.

I turned away and disappeared into our bedroom’s ensuite.

Steam filled the bathroom before I even peeled my shirt off. I moved on autopilot—water on, clothes shed in a blur. But my mind was nowhere near my body.

This was stupid. What the fuck was I doing?

Why did her call with Marcus bother me this much?

Why did Vince’s bullshit stick?

Carmen and I were solid. We had history. Love. Commitment . The kind of loyalty people prayed for.

We didn’t need constant sex or surface-level validation to prove what we had.

…Right?

I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water beat against my skin, hoping it would wash away the bullshit. But the second my eyes closed, the questions started again.

What did we have in common anymore?

She’s completely focused on her career, absorbed in the cases she’s working on, and those were things she shares with Marcus. Things they discuss over lunch and in texts. Conversations that she’d leave me at restaurant tables to have.

I exhaled hard, tilting my face into the stream.

She’s with me. She chose me. That should’ve been enough.

It should be enough.

I shut off the water, heart pounding now for a different reason. The echo of Vince’s voice cut through the quiet.

People settle when they’re too busy chasing their own shit to see they’re miserable.

Carmen wasn’t miserable.

Was she?

I dragged a towel off the rack and scrubbed it over my face, frustration coiling in my chest. The thought lingered, gnawing at the edges of my mind. Because what if she was miserable? And what if she did settle? And what if she wanted Marcus?

The little voice in the back of my head reminds me of the conversation in the car. She and Marcus couldn’t be together because he was married.

But what if they both want more?

Carmen would never break up a happy marriage, and she wouldn’t cheat on me.

But was she just here for the sex while her mind was getting what she wanted but couldn’t have from Marcus?

Was it worse to be cheated on physically or emotionally?

What if I was just the comfort?

The consistent warm body while her mind stayed busy somewhere else—with someone else?

I wrapped a towel around my waist and caught my reflection in the mirror. My jaw was tight, my chest rising like I’d just run a marathon.

I needed to pull it together.

She came to Italy for me. Flew across the world to see me. If she didn’t want this, or didn’t want us, she wouldn’t have shown up. Carmen wasn’t cruel—if she wanted to end it, she would’ve broken it off without coming here.

She would’ve called and let me down gently. She’d think she was sparing me.

Instead, she was here.

In my hotel suite.

In my bed.

I tightened the towel around my waist and opened the door.

And all the breath left my body.

She was stretched across the mattress, bare skin glowing under the warm amber light of the candles she’d lit. She laid on her stomach lazily as she flipped through the room service menu, utterly unbothered and completely naked. Except for the panties she’d been saving for me to rip off.

Her curves were just as I remembered—toned and flawless. That faint, familiar tattoo on her lower back peeked above the line of her underwear.

She looked exactly like the photos she used to send me at night—only better. Real. Tangible. Mine .

And something dark and possessive surged up inside me, so strong and sharp it made me dizzy.

She was mine.

The thought hit hard and my dick twitched under the towel before I could even process it.

Then she looked up and caught me standing there like a fool. A lazy, knowing smile pulled at her lips. “Hey, stranger.”

My body surged toward her like it had a mind of its own—but suddenly, something warm tickled under my nose. I swiped it without thinking, only to feel the wet drag of blood against my knuckles.

“Shit.”

I turned quickly and ducked back into the bathroom, heart racing and mind scrambled. I gripped the sink, cursing under my breath as I pressed a towel to my face.

Fucking perfect.

I couldn’t tell if it was the altitude, the heat, or the rush of want that had me unraveling, but one thing was clear—

I was in deep.

And I wasn’t sure I knew how to swim anymore.

She’s trying to kill me.

Just looking at her made me burn. I wanted to know what was new.

What new sounds she’d make and what new spots she liked.

Fuck. I still had to tell her.

“Is everything okay?” she asked from behind the door.

I opened the bathroom door, and there she was, standing in front of me with eyes full of worry.

I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze.

Instead, my eyes fell to her body—her round breasts accented with her pierced nipples, the curve of her hips, the faint stretch marks that reminded me she was real, not some fantasy.

Finally, my gaze met hers. She was waiting for me to say something, but the answer was clear in her eyes.

She cared.

She loved me.

This wasn’t just about sex or a fleeting desire. I was more than something to fuck because she couldn’t have Marcus. She was here because she wanted to be with me . She was here, with me, because she loved me. I just had to let go of the doubts.

I swallowed hard, the tension in my chest loosening slightly, but it still wasn’t enough to quiet the voice in my head.

“I have a headache,” I said, my voice low. “Is it okay if we call it a night?”

“Do you need to see a doctor?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. “I thought I saw your nose bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” I assured her, forcing a smile. “I just need to rest. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

She nodded, a hesitant smile on her lips, and climbed into bed with me. She curled into me, her breasts pressing against my chest, the coolness of the piercings digging into my skin.

I didn’t mind. I welcomed the sting.

“I missed you,” she mumbled sleepily, lips brushing my collarbone.

“I missed you, too,” I murmured, wrapping an arm around her.

“And…I’m sorry I took a call in the middle of dinner.”

My breath caught with slight guilt. “It’s okay, Sweetness.”

There was a stretch of quiet before she spoke again.

“I talked to Alyssa today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I asked her about your mom.”

My eyes furrowed together. “Why?”

She sat up just enough to look in my eyes. “Because I saw her calling you today, and I was curious. Alyssa said it’s been bad. Worse than you made it sound.”

I sighed and dragged a hand over my face. “Yeah. So?”

“So?” She repeated with a bit of attitude. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I turned my head to look at her. Her face was unsure, like she was trying not to make it a thing, but couldn’t help herself.

“She disrespected you,” I said. “And I didn’t tell you because I knew this was gonna happen.”

She frowned. “What’s this?”

“This.” I motioned between us. “You thinking you’re the reason we ain’t speaking.”

“I mean ain’t I?” she asked, quieter now. “You’re choosing me over your mom.”

That sentence hit a nerve.

I sat up a little, resting back on one arm. “Don’t do that. Don’t twist it like that.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” My voice came out sharper than I wanted. I let out a breath to cool it off. “I’m not cutting her off because of you. I’m cutting her off because she refuses to treat the people I love with basic respect.”

Her eyes searched mine. “But why didn’t you just tell me? Why let me think everything was fine?”

“Because I didn’t want to dump that shit on you. You’ve got enough going on, Amore mio . I was trying to spare you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need you to protect me like that. I need you to tell me the truth.”

My jaw flexed.

She was right, and I hated that she was right. Guilt was swallowing me whole now, and it felt like I was hiding a million things from her. How dare I have doubts about her and Marcus when I had become a vault of secrets?

Tomorrow. I’ll explain it all tomorrow.

Well. At least the important things.

I looked at her hand resting near mine and laced my fingers through it.

“I’m sorry,” I said, steady but low. “I’m so sorry, Carmen.”

She winced. “I’m sorry, too.”

“No.” I squeezed her hand. “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

We were quiet for a moment as she flexed her hand in mine and watched. “I wish you told me.”

“I know,” I whispered, observing her. “I should’ve. I just… I didn’t want her bullshit poisoning what we had going on.”

“It won’t touch us, Theo. Not if we don’t let it.”

Huh.

That stuck with me.

“You’re right.” I pulled her closer, settling us back against the pillows, her head on my chest. My hand found her waist and stayed there.

She tilted her head up, chin resting on my chest. “I can tell you’re hiding things from me. I don’t know why, but I don’t like it.”

I froze a little, but kissed her forehead gently. “I promise I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, baby. Just get some rest. Okay? I love you.”

“Fine.” She didn’t put up a fight, which I appreciated. “But we are talking first thing in the morning, Teddy. I love you, too.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Her breathing slowed. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

I stared up at the ceiling, thoughts still churning. Tomorrow could change the trajectory of our relationship forever. Carmen had always been firm in her decisions, so my making this one without her could possibly lead to her running back to New York.

Back to Marcus.

Tuh.

A part of me felt ridiculous for overthinking this. When I did what I did, I thought the only consequence would be Carmen having a temper tantrum. But now that he’s in the picture— another part of me, the part that had stood on that sidewalk tonight and listened, couldn’t let it fucking go.

In my absence, another man had taken up space in her life as someone she could rely on, and it didn’t sit well with me.

Not at all.

Careful not to wake her, I slipped out from under her, picked up her phone from the nightstand, and unlocked it.

I opened her call log, and there he was. Marcus. I tapped the contact.

Blocked.

I stood there a moment longer, staring at the screen, then set the phone gently back on the nightstand.

She shifted in her sleep, reaching for the warmth that had just left her side.

I climbed back into bed and pulled her close. Her arm slid across my stomach, her cheek pressing into my chest. I closed my eyes.

I said I’d tell her everything tomorrow, but I think I’ll keep this one to myself.