Bryce abruptly pulled away from Vincent, only for his legs to buckle beneath him. He staggered backward, barely catching himself against the wall before he could collapse onto the floor.
He remained there for several moments, until weakness gradually faded, strength returning to his legs little by little until he realized he felt far more energized than he ever had before.
Across the room, Vincent finally rose from the floor.
It was as though the haze clouding his mind had lifted at last. Without a word, he began gathering his clothes and dressing.
Bryce simply stood there watching him.
His own clothes remained scattered across the floor, but the thought of picking them up didn’t cross his mind. His thoughts were tangled beyond recognition.
How on earth had he ended up sleeping with Vincent Walker?
More importantly...
How had they become so irresistibly drawn to one another?
The most bewildering part was that the attraction hadn’t been one-sided. Despite being married to a woman, Vincent had desired him with the same consuming intensity.
The memory of everything they had shared moments ago flooded back into Bryce’s mind with startling clarity, leaving him rooted where he stood.
It surpassed anything he had ever known or imagined. Compared to what he had just experienced, every intimate moment he had ever shared before suddenly felt hollow, almost as though he had never truly experienced intimacy until now.
An unfamiliar sense of fulfillment settled deep inside him.
It was strangely comforting, as though Vincent had reached a part of him that had remained untouched all his life.
A place he had never known existed, yet had somehow always been waiting to be found. It explained a longing he had carried for years without ever understanding what he had been searching for.
"What is happening?" The question escaped before he even realized he had spoken.
Vincent didn’t answer. He finished buttoning his shirt, picked up his phone from the couch, and slipped it into his pocket.
"I need to go."
Those were the only words he offered before turning toward the door.
He walked out without another glance, and the door closed quietly behind him.
Oddly enough, Bryce wasn’t frustrated by the unanswered question.
What unsettled him far more was the thought of where Vincent was going.
Leah.
The memory of her shoving him hard enough to send him crashing onto the floor surfaced vividly in his mind. Vincent had sent her away before everything between them had happened. Now he was almost certainly going after her.
The thought disturbed him far more than it should have.
Something twisted inside him with possessiveness, an emotion so foreign that it caught him completely off guard. Instead of feeling guilty for sleeping with someone’s husband, an irrational part of him hated the thought of Vincent returning to her.
His brows drew together.
What was wrong with him?
Almost instinctively, his hand rose to the back of his head where the injury should have been.
His fingers searched for the wound, expecting at least a dull ache, but there wasn’t even the slightest trace of pain.
They wandered over the same spot again, searching for the cut he remembered so clearly, but it wasn’t there either.
That only deepened Bryce’s confusion.
Every instinct urged him to stay and uncover the truth behind everything that had happened, but another part of him insisted he needed to leave before this situation became even more complicated.
Above all, he couldn’t afford to cross paths with Leah again. The next time, she might not settle for threats or intimidation.
She might simply kill him.
Even so, there was no way Bryce was going to pretend that none of it had happened.
He had been kidnapped.
Brought to the home of the most influential businessman in the world.
Rendered unconscious, then somehow drawn into an intimacy so overwhelming that it had turned everything he thought he knew about himself upside down.
None of that could simply be ignored. One day, he would uncover the truth. He simply had no idea where to begin.
Great.
Just great...
Was he now supposed to focus on finding a job, supporting himself, and piecing his life back together after Dave had shattered six years of it...
Or chase mysteries that sounded too unbelievable to exist?
Oddly enough, he couldn’t bring himself to regret what had happened between him and Vincent.
The only thing he regretted was that Vincent belonged to someone else.
Everything else...
It felt impossible to hate.
The night had swept away an emptiness Bryce hadn’t even realized he had been carrying. Even the heartbreak Dave had left behind no longer felt as suffocating as it had only hours ago.
The betrayal still stung.
Six years of love had ended with Dave choosing someone else, leaving Bryce feeling as though every promise, every memory, and every year they had shared had meant far less than he had believed.
That was the part that hurt.
Not losing Dave.
Realizing how foolish he had been.
Drawing a quiet breath, Bryce began gathering the clothes scattered across the room and dressed himself.
Halfway through, his movements came to an abrupt stop as a thought struck him.
Vincent had finished inside him several times, and not once had he felt anything spill out afterward.
He distinctly remembered the times he had been intimate with Dave. It had always come out afterward.
Always.
Frowning, he slipped his briefs back off and examined them.
They were completely clean, he checked the floor as well.
Nothing.
He frowned harder before awkwardly trying to force anything out, convinced it had to be there somewhere.
But nothing came.
After several unsuccessful attempts, he finally gave up with a quiet sigh, maybe it would come out later. He needed a shower anyway.
Pulling his briefs back on, he finished dressing before reaching for his hoodie and drawing it over his head.
The fabric brushed against the side of his neck, making him feel a strange sensation, it wasn’t exactly painful. His hand immediately flew to the spot.
He remembered Vincent biting him there. His fingertips traced the spot absentmindedly.
"Why did he bite me?" he muttered under his breath. "Were his lips not enough?" As strange as the bite was, it stirred an equally strange feeling deep inside him.
Instead of disturbing him, it left behind an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. The realization made even less sense than everything else that had happened tonight.
He had never experienced a night so physically demanding, so fiercely passionate, and, against all expectation, so profoundly satisfying. Until now, he had never considered himself someone who enjoyed rough, uninhibited sex.
Unable to make sense of any of it, Bryce pushed the thoughts aside and finished pulling the hoodie over his head.
His phone was still in his pocket.
Satisfied, he glanced around the room, making sure he hadn’t left anything behind.
But instead of finding another belonging...
His gaze drifted to something even more breathtaking.