“How do you want to play it? Blindfolded with a tie, or hands tied?”

Lily Hargrove braced both hands against the floor-to-ceiling window. Her white teeth caught her lower lip, leaving a row of tiny marks on those lush red lips. Her voice came out soft and trembling.

“B-Blindfold me.”

A wave of scorching breath brushed past her ear. Behind her, the man’s hard, solid chest pressed up against her back.

His pale, slender fingers held a black tie. His voice was rough and low as he leaned close to her ear, coaxing, teasing, half comforting and half setting her on fire.

“Kids make either-or choices. Baby, you’re grown now. You can have both.”

The black tie slipped over her eyes, and in an instant, everything around her vanished. With her sight taken away, every other sense blew wide open, sharp to the point of madness.

He was wild like a wolf...

Outside the window, snow drifted down from the pitch-black sky in soft, swirling flurries. Norvalla welcomed its first snowfall of the year.

The snow kept falling, from dusk to dawn, dressing the whole world in silver and white, like some unreal fairy tale come to life.

He sat in the chair, and she sat on his lap. He held her in his arms as they watched the snow by the window.

“Baby, promise me. We stay together forever. No breakup. Ever.”

“Mhm. Never breaking up.”

—

Five years later.

Lily Hargrove’s soft body was half-buried in the blankets. The thin strap of her slip dress had slid from her shoulder down to her elbow, exposing her fair, smooth skin. She was drenched in sweat, both hands clutching the bedsheet tight, toes curled up.

Then her phone suddenly started ringing and jolted her awake.

Her best friend Chloe Ashford said, “Hey, babe, you up yet?”

Lily’s voice was dry, but somehow still carried that faint, lazy sweetness. “Not yet.”

“Whoa—hold up. That does not sound right.”

Chloe Ashford caught the weirdness right away. "If I didn’t know you were single, with that voice of yours, I’d seriously think you spent last night going all out with some guy."

Lily Hargrove reached to hang up, but she was a second too slow. Chloe’s voice blasted through the phone like it had its own speaker system.

"Holy crap! Lily Hargrove, you had another sex dream, didn’t you?!"

Okay, fine. Nailed it again.

Lily said flatly, "Wow. Look at you, being way too smart for your own good."

Chloe let out a ridiculous cackling laugh, like a hen that had just laid an egg. "Bawk bawk, let me do the math here. The guy in your dream was your ex-boyfriend."

Lily rubbed her temple. "You’re at your prettiest when you’re silent."

Chloe clicked her tongue. "What’s the point of just thinking about him? A faraway cure won’t fix immediate thirst. You already broke up, so you can’t exactly have him now, can you?"

Lily: "..."

Chloe worked as a sex-toy designer. Other people had desk lamps, pen holders, notebooks on their desks. Hers? Every kind of adult toy imaginable.

Flashy ones, sleek ones, weird-looking ones—so many it was practically a full-on showroom.

"A real bestie can’t just sit there watching her friend suffer in thirsty mode," Chloe said smugly. "Perfect timing, too. My company just launched a new electric model. Crazy powerful. I’ll give you one for free."

Crazy powerful...

Suspicion flickered across Lily’s eyes.

More powerful than Sebastian Whitfield?

...Yeah, no. Probably not.

Sebastian Whitfield wasn’t just impressive because he came from a family with insane power and status. The real problem was that he himself was already way too exceptional.

Back in school, every single exam, he took first in class, first in grade, first in the whole city.

And as for looks—he went from being the hottest guy in his grade, to the hottest guy in school, to the kind of face fashion magazines loved, to a face the entire entertainment industry agreed was basically unfair.

He could throw on a plain white T-shirt, walk down the street like it was nothing, and talent scouts would chase him for blocks, begging him to join showbiz and become a superstar.

A chance other people would kill for—Sebastian Whitfield turned it down without even blinking.

"My girlfriend gets jealous easily. A kiss scene? She’d be upset. Even a hug is off-limits. I can’t stand seeing her feel bad."

A privileged background, ridiculously good looks, and the kind of ability that put most people to shame had shaped him into someone proud, untamed, and impossible to box in.

He wanted the best in everything. Even in love, even in bed, he had to make it perfect—so good it hooked people completely, leaving them drowning in it, unable to quit.

No matter how you looked at it, he was the kind of boyfriend people could only dream about.

No one was better than Sebastian Whitfield.

Chloe Ashford said, "Are you free today? I can bring it over."

Lily Hargrove replied, "Maybe don’t."

"Maybe?"

Chloe cut straight through her little act. "If you really didn’t want it, you’d say, ‘I don’t want it.’ You wouldn’t say, ‘Maybe don’t.’"

Lily paused, then said, "My brother’s flying back from the UK today. I need to pick him up at the airport later, so I won’t be home."

Chloe said, "Okay, then this works. I’ve got your house key anyway. I’ll leave it at your place. Just remember to grab it."

After hanging up, Lily tossed back the blanket and got out of bed. She opened the wardrobe, took out a clean pair of underwear, and changed.

Sitting in front of the vanity, she could still feel that damp, feverish flush burning across her face.

It had to be because it had been way too long since she’d had a sex life. That was the only reason she’d had that kind of messy, over-the-top dream.

Ever since breaking up with Sebastian Whitfield, five whole years had passed, and there had been no one else.

She sat there quietly for a long moment before finally forcing that devastatingly handsome face out of her head.

Her pale, slender fingers picked up the gel eyeliner pen. With a steady hand, she traced a clean line along the roots of her lashes, smooth and precise, done in one stroke.

Then she swept a muted rose-brown lipstick over her lips. Lightly applied, it made her look soft and fresh for the day. Layered a little more, it turned her into the cool, killer kind of pretty girl.

Chloe had once summed Lily up with scary accuracy: "Angel face, killer body. Innocent, but still kind of seductive. Pure and flirty at the same time. Exactly the type straight guys lose their minds over."

Lily took a cab to the airport and called her brother, Ethan Hargrove.

His phone was off.

Her gaze stayed fixed on the airport exit, then suddenly froze.

A man in dark sunglasses walked straight into her line of sight.

Black silk shirt. Black suit pants. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, a seriously unfair butt. Two buttons at his collar left undone. Hands in his pockets. His stride lazy, relaxed, almost careless, yet every move screamed old-money confidence and a dangerous kind of charm.

The kind of man who looked ridiculously fit. Like, peak genes, no joke.

In the crowded terminal, he was so handsome it was honestly offensive. Everyone else around him got reduced to background extras on the spot.

Lily Hargrove’s heartbeat instantly went off rhythm, faster and messier by the second, because this man looked way too much like him...

But compared with the one in her memory, he was taller now. Sharper features. More defined. Stronger build. And that aura around him? Colder, heavier, harder to ignore.

He walked over from a distance, black leather shoes stepping onto the polished floor with low, steady, measured clicks. Closer and closer. Nearer and nearer. Each footstep felt like a hammer tapping right against Lily’s chest.

Then he passed by her.

Didn’t stop once.

Lily Hargrove slowly loosened the hands she had clenched so tightly, then let out a long breath.

Back when they broke up, things had ended brutally, clean and final. He had gone to America, and this flight had arrived from the UK.

Maybe... he just looked similar.

It had already been five years. A whole five years. And yet just seeing someone who resembled him was enough to make her body react this hard. Seriously, what kind of weak point was that?

Five years wasn’t exactly short, but it wasn’t that long either. Long enough for children to grow up, for youth to quietly fade, for old people to leave this world, and also—

Long enough for him to forget her.

When two people stayed apart for too long, even the hottest, fiercest love would cool down in the end.

Ethan Hargrove’s call came in, pulling Lily Hargrove out of her memories and back into the present.

His voice was low and clear, warm with that familiar doting tone. "Little Seven, your brother’s home."

Five years ago, something had happened that forced the siblings apart. One had gone far away to the UK, the other to France.

And Lily Hargrove had only returned to Norvalla less than a week ago.

At the arrivals exit, Ethan Hargrove came out pushing a luggage cart. White shirt, black dress pants, gold-rimmed glasses resting on that straight, high nose bridge. Clean-cut, polished, expensive-looking in that low-key way, and seriously handsome.

He’d been forced to leave the country at nineteen. Five years had sanded off all the boyish edges. The immaturity was gone, replaced by a calm, restrained steadiness. Maybe it was because of everything he’d been through, that messy background, that complicated life, but there was a kind of maturity on him now that people his age usually just didn’t have.

When Ethan looked at Lily Hargrove, his gaze was exactly the same as in her memory—gentle, quiet, grounding.

"Little Seven, it’s been five years. You’re not even gonna give your brother a hug?"

Lily’s eyes turned red on the spot, tears rushing up so fast they filled her whole vision.

Ethan lifted a hand and rubbed her head, then took out a tissue and carefully wiped her tears away. "From now on, I’m not leaving you again. Norvalla is our home. We’re not going anywhere. We stay here and live openly, properly, in Norvalla."

That only made Lily cry harder.

Ethan didn’t rush her. He just kept wiping her tears with ridiculous patience, then tried to coax a smile out of her. "If you keep crying like this, the Great Wall’s gonna collapse. And then my pretty little doll is gonna turn into a scruffy little gremlin."

Lily glared at him through watery eyes. "You’re the scruffy little gremlin when you cry."

Ethan clicked his tongue. "What are you talking about? Your brother doesn’t even need to cry to be a scruffy little gremlin."

Lily couldn’t hold it in anymore and let out a laugh.

Liar.

Her brother was obviously ridiculously, unfairly handsome.

The two of them walked toward the airport exit together. But just as they reached the doors, Ethan suddenly stopped.

"I made a friend in the UK. He came back today too. I’ll introduce you two."

Lily nodded. "Sure."

If he was Ethan’s friend, then he was probably some gentle, refined, super decent guy too.

Ethan lifted a hand and pointed ahead. "There. He’s over there."

Lily followed his line of sight and saw the man in sunglasses.

He walked straight toward her, then stopped beside her. His tall frame dropped a wall of shadow over her, and with it came a sharp, dangerous pressure that hit almost instantly.

Ethan introduced him. "My best brother—Sebastian Whitfield."

Sebastian… Sebastian what again…?!!!

—

Sweet! Spoiling! Flirty! Satisfying! Clean romance! Crazy possessive!

Long legs · stupidly handsome · filthy rich · sexy and untamed · Norvalla’s crown-prince type

VS

fair-skinned beauty · stunning and seductive · soft and fierce at the same time · rich heiress energy

Wild, flirty, and seriously addictive!

Life’s only fun when it hits hard enough!

If you like it, please add it to your library. Pretty please, add it, add it, add it—thank you!

゜

´∀｀

♡