CHAPTER 40: CAN I JOIN YOU?

Stefan’s jaw clenched slightly, like he was fighting some internal battle—but it only lasted a second. His hands rose, one cupping her cheek, the other sliding to her lower back, guiding her closer. His touch was unhurried, but firm and certain.

Ruby found herself shifting, straddling his lap instinctively, needing to be near him—with him—not just in proximity, but in soul. She knew she was dancing on a razor-thin line between lies and truth, but in that moment, all she could focus on was him—his touch, his need, the way his breath deepened with every inch of closeness.

His lips found hers again, this time bolder, hungrier. Their mouths moved in sync, a rhythm that grew with each heartbeat, with each brush of skin. Ruby let her hands roam, exploring his broad shoulders, the firm lines of his chest beneath his shirt.

"God..." he whispered between kisses, his fingers brushing along her spine. "You feel like something I dreamed about but never thought I’d touch. You feel different today."

His words undid her as she let loose all her reservations.

Ruby moaned softly into his mouth, and that sound—low, real, raw—made Stefan grip her tighter. She could feel the tension coiled in his body, the restraint but she didn’t let him go.

He broke the kiss again, breathing hard. "If this is too much—if you want to stop—just say so."

"I don’t," she said, voice trembling. "I don’t want to stop."

Though she knew it was barely a week she had married him and shouldn’t be doing this as it was still to early, she just couldn’t help.

A question crossed her mind about what she’d do in the coming year when she was already losing herself this way but then, she didn’t care.

He reached up slowly, his hand finding the curve of her neck, his thumb brushing just beneath her jaw as if memorizing the shape of her. "You’re so beautiful," he murmured. "Every time I touch you, it feels like the world quiets down."

Ruby bit her lip, overwhelmed by the gentle intensity in his voice.

She pressed her forehead to his again. "I don’t know what’s happening to me," she confessed in a shaky whisper. "But I don’t want it to stop either."

Neither moved for a moment, both simply breathing in each other.

Then, gently, Stefan stood—carrying her with ease as she clung to him instinctively. He walked them the few steps to the bed and laid her down with such care that it made her heart twist.

He sat beside her, brushing her hair from her face. "I wish I could see you right now," he said softly. "But I can feel everything. And you feel... like everything I didn’t know I needed."

Her chest rose and fell, her lips parted in silent wonder. How did he always say the exact words that made her fall deeper?

Ruby reached up and tugged at the hem of his shirt. "Then feel everything, take me," she whispered, guiding his hands to her waist.

There was no rush. No desperation. Only the slow, simmering pull of something real, something growing.

Piece by piece, they undressed each other—not with urgency, but with reverence. Fingers traced skin, lips brushed scars and collarbones. Every kiss was a promise. Every touch was an answer to a question neither of them had spoken aloud.

When Stefan finally slipped his duck into her honey pot, it wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, pleasure feeling them both from inside to the outside.

Ruby gasped against his shoulder, holding him close, her body molding to his with a natural ease that made her wonder if they were made for this moment all along.

Their rhythm was slow at first, savoring each motion, each whisper of skin on skin. But the tension built, fierce and tender, until neither could hold back. They came undone together—shaking, clinging, breathless, Ruby moaning cries of pleasure and Stefan muttering silent promises.

After they had both hit the edge, they lay tangled in the sheets, Ruby’s head resting on his chest, Stefan’s fingers lazily brushing her back.

The silence between them was no longer heavy. It was soft. Intimate. Full of unspoken things.

"That was nothing like before. It’s incredible," Stefan said quietly, almost like a confession.

Ruby closed her eyes, heart pounding. "I think so too," she whispered, knowing full well the truth she couldn’t yet tell would shatter everything.

Ruby stood up, and after washing up, she helped Stefan wash up too. While Stefan climbed on the bed, she picked up her phone, her fingers curling around it as she unlocked the screen, wanting to see if Rayna had replied her text or not.

The glow of the display lit up her face in the dim room, and her eyes darted immediately to the top—there was a message from Rayna.

[Chill babe, I’m fine. Got bored and decided to hit a club nearby. Needed some music and chaos. I’ll sneak back in before we leave tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’m safe.]

Ruby exhaled, a long, shaky sigh of relief she hadn’t even realized she was holding in.

She smiled faintly at the text, imagining Rayna dancing under strobe lights, drink in hand, probably charming half the room without even trying. Typical Rayna.

That was when she felt it—Stefan shifting beside her.

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"You okay?" he asked, his voice low and edged with concern. "You breathed like something was wrong."

Ruby turned to him, the phone still resting in her hand. "Yeah! No! I mean nothing’s wrong." she whispered. "I’m fine."

Then her gaze dropped, lips curling into a soft, almost embarrassed smile. "It’s just...tonight was the best. Even now, I still feel your touch, Stefan," she admitted quietly. "Even though you’re not touching me and we’ve been done for a while now."

For a beat, silence settled between them. Then Stefan reached out, his hand finding hers like it belonged there, his thumb grazing the back of her fingers.

"I know exactly what you mean," he said softly. "I feel it too."

And with that, the quiet between them deepened—not with distance, but with a shared understanding neither of them could put into words.

Away from there, the bass thumped through the floor beneath her heels, matching the wild beat of her heart. Rayna stood in the middle of the crowded club, swaying to the music under flashing lights.

The place was packed with strangers—dancing bodies, the scent of cologne and sweat, and the clinking of glasses—but it was exactly what she’d needed.

After days of hiding in Ruby’s house, being quiet as a mouse, and living like a ghost in someone else’s home, she needed to feel again. To move. To laugh. To be Rayna—the woman who owned every room she walked into.

She tossed back the last sip of her drink and set the glass on the bar before scanning the crowd. Her eyes, bright and mischievous, skimmed over a sea of faces. Then they landed on a particular guy.

He was leaning against the edge of the bar on the far side of the club, dressed in black. Tailored pants, a charcoal button-down, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He had a quiet confidence in the way he held himself, and when he took a sip of his drink, his jaw flexed just right.

Rayna’s lips curled. Game on. She thought as she squinted her eyes, trying to make out his features. When she saw that he was quite good looking, she smiled and stood up.

She smoothed a hand down her dress—short, black, and hugging her curves like a second skin—before making her way through the crowd toward him. Her hips swayed in rhythm with the music, and she knew people were watching, but she didn’t care. She had eyes only for him.

As she got closer, his gaze lifted—and locked with hers. It was raw, intense, with a hint of curiosity.

Then, she winked at him and a slow smile pulled at his lips, as though he knew exactly why she was coming his way with that action of hers.

"Hey," she said, stopping just inches from him.

"Hey yourself," he replied, his voice low and smooth. "Been watching you dance. You own the floor."

"I try," she said, with a confident shrug. "What’s your name?"

"Ethan. And you?"

"Rayna."

"Pretty name," he said, lifting his glass in a small toast. "It sure suits you."

"You’re not so bad yourself, Ethan," she replied, stepping a little closer. "You here alone?" she asked, looking around as though she was looking for someone.

"I am. You?"

"Technically," she said, lifting a brow. "But maybe not anymore."

Ethan chuckled, clearly amused—and intrigued by how bold she was. "You don’t waste time, do you?"

"Not tonight," she said, her voice dipping, sultry and teasing. "So, should I join you?"

"Of course. Please, sit," Ethan told her and she smiled before taking the seat next to him.

"So, why are you here alone?" she asked and he shrugged.