Chapter 7 Something About Ivan Carlos

• Ivan looked at me for a long moment, as if he knew exactly what was on my mind. He climbed onto the bed, gently parting my thighs with his hand.
• I shifted, torn between wanting to leave his room immediately and the part of me that didn’t. No matter how much I tried to hide how he made me feel, it was as if I were an open book.
• “Let's just say every part of you want me more than I want you,” he whispered in my ear, kissing my neck softly.
• I scoffed, trying to pull away from him. “In your dreams, Mr. Carlos.“ But he drew me back, his body hovering over mine, his eyes piercing into me.
• I took a deep breath, avoiding his gaze as I struggled to control my feelings.
• He kissed me softly on the chest, his hand sliding from my side to under my dress, and I realized I was wearing a flower printed knee length dress that made it easy for him to touch me.
• I wasn’t intoxicated this time—I could feel everything. It brought back memories of our first night, the kind of feeling that made me feel like I had partake in it than I thought.
• “The first time I touched you, you begged me not to stop,” he murmured, his hand now caressing my breast, his gaze never leaving mine.
• "I was intoxicated, and everything that happened that night meant nothing," I said, successfully pulling myself away from him and making my way to the door. I heard him groan, and for a moment, I thought he might try to stop me—but he didn’t.
• I turned to look at him and saw him lying on the bed, staring at me. The fact that one moment he was all over me and the next, he didn’t make any effort to stop me, made me wonder if there was something more behind his sudden change in behavior.
• I rolled my eyes and grabbed the doorknob, but it hit me—he hadn’t tried to stop me because he had already locked the door. Anger surged within me as I turned back to face him.
• "Where are the keys? I need to get out of here," I demanded, my eyes scanning the room.
• He smirked, lying on his back, raising the keys in the air. "Why would I give you these?"
• I rolled my eyes at his antics. Who would have thought Ivan Carlos had such an irritating side? I couldn’t believe I had stalked him for years, and now that I was finally in the same room with him, I wanted to leave so badly.
• "Because I need to get out of here," I stated firmly, my hand trembling slightly from the emotions coursing through me.
• He adjusted himself on the bed and turned to face me directly. "You're my wife, Veronica. You can't run away from it.“ He clicked his tongue. “And I don’t want you out of my sight."
• "Your wife?" I scoffed, walking closer to him. "There aren't any cameras here, so drop the act. We're not married." The moment the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back—but it was too late.
• Ivan stood up quickly, crossing the room in a few strides. He grabbed me by the waist, pulling me closer to him, his hard body pressed against mine, his face inches from mine, his eyes burning into me.
• "Say that again," he murmured, his lips just a breath away from mine. "Say we're not married, and say you don’t like it when I touch you."
• I couldn’t say a word. I was frozen in place, his eyes still locked on mine, his hand gripping my waist, his lips hovering so close to mine.
• In that moment, I found myself torn between my thoughts and desires. The truth was, I liked the fact that Ivan was fighting for us, for this marriage—even if it wasn’t real. It had always been what I wanted: to be with him, to be his.
• Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him hard, surprising even myself with the intensity.
• Ivan responded instantly, his lips moving hungrily against mine. His hands tightened around my waist, pulling me even closer, as if he were afraid to let go. The intensity of the kiss caught both of us off guard, but neither of us pulled away.
• For a moment, everything else faded—the locked door, the tension, the fight we had just been having. It was just him and me, and the undeniable connection we couldn’t ignore any longer.
• I broke the kiss, gasping for air, my heart pounding in my chest. His eyes, dark with desire, searched mine as if he was trying to understand what had just happened.
• “You don’t get it, do you?” I whispered, my voice shaky. “This... it’s complicated.”
• His grip on me loosened, but his gaze remained locked on mine. “It doesn’t have to be complicated, Veronica. You’re my wife—whether you want to admit it or not.”
• “We’re not married!” I repeated, but even as I said the words, they felt hollow. There was something between us that I couldn’t deny, something deeper than just a piece of paper.
• Ivan sighed, stepping back slightly but still keeping one hand on my waist. “You’ve been running from this since the beginning. Why? What are you so afraid of?”
• I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. It wasn’t just Ivan that scared me—it was the feelings I had for him, feelings that I've kept hidden for so long.
• “I don’t know how to do this,” I admitted quietly, the vulnerability in my voice surprising even me. “I don’t know how to be with someone like you. You're a celebrity and I'm just…”
• “My wife and that makes you a celebrity too.“ He softened at my words, his hand gently cupping my face. “As long as you don't keep running away from me.“
• For the first time, I felt the weight of my defenses cracking. Ivan wasn’t just the man I had admired from a distance for years—he was right here, in front of me, offering more than I had ever allowed myself to want.