Page 14 of Protected By My Playboy Billionaire

“You remember?” I blurt out, unable to contain my surprise. He nods and looks away, like he doesn’t want to take credit for it. That doesn’t change the fact that he got a nightlight for me. “Thank you.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “That means a lot to me.”

“It’s almost time for dinner.” As Adrian mentions dinner, I tear my gaze away from him, nodding in response as he heads towards the door. “You can change and freshen up if you’d like. I’ll be downstairs.” With that, he steps out of the room, leaving me alone. I watch his broad shoulders disappear from view. Part of me is relieved to have a moment to myself, to process everything that’s happened. But another part of me, the part that can still smell his cologne and feel his lingering presence, wants to run after him.

Instead, I open one of my suitcases, dreading the idea of unpacking all of my belongings.

“I’ll probably be done unpacking by the time Ethan comes back,” I mumble to myself. With a sigh, I decide to put it off until tomorrow, opting instead to pull out some comfortable sweatpants and a T-shirtfor dinner.

As I quickly strip off my dress and throw it onto the bed, a sudden realization washes over me.

“There’s no way—” It finally clicks in my mind. My dress, with its subtle duck pattern, is staring back at me. Adrian’s nickname suddenly makes sense, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at my obliviousness. Was he making fun of me this whole time? The thought lingers in my mind as I pull on my sweatpants and slip into the T-shirt. My hands instinctively go under the shirt to unclasp my bra, but I decide against it and I make my way instead to the adjoining ensuite bathroom. Color marble tiles, soft lighting and large framed windows are just some of the features that make up this beautiful space. A little grand for a girl with a just small cosmetic case in her hand. Shaking my head at the contrast between my tiny bathroom back home and this, I make my way to the sink to brush out my hair and wash my face before dinner.

A little while later I step out of my room and past Adrian’s, a sudden movement catches my eye, drawing my gaze towards it. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m looking through the crack before I can stop myself.Through the slightly ajar door, I glimpse him standing shirtless, his silhouette outlined against the soft glow of the room. Holy shit. For a moment, I’m frozen in place, mesmerized by the sight before me. His body is like a sculpture, each muscle defined and chiseled, his skin smooth and flawless in the dim light. As he reaches for a T-shirt laid out on his bed, the play of shadows and light accentuates every cord of his muscled back. Suddenly, all I can think about is having my hands on it, sliding my fingers along every muscle.

Get out of here.

I quickly shake myself out of my trance, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks. I turn on my heel and make my way downstairs as fast and as quietly as I can. Thank God for the plush carpet.

As I descend the staircase, the aroma of dinner wafts up to greet me, pulling me back to reality. I quicken my pace, my heart still racing from the sight, and soon find myself in the dining room. Who cooked all of this? I take a seat at the table, which is set with an array of dishes. There’s a pasta dish with a cream sauce, accompanied by a fresh gardensalad and what smells like garlic bread. The sight is enough to make my stomach rumble in anticipation.

“I hope you’re in the mood for pasta alfredo.” Adrian’s voice startles me from behind. I turn to face him and immediately feel a rush of warmth. He's wearing black sweatpants and the T-shirt I saw on his bed earlier.

“Where did all this food come from?” I gesture to the spread.

“I told my housekeeper of your arrival, and she kindly insisted on preparing dinner for us.” He takes a seat, joining me, and reaches for the bottle of wine I hadn’t even noticed.

“That’s really thoughtful of her.” As I reach for a fork, my recent realization dawns on me, and I pause, turning to look at Adrian. “Little duck,” I start, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck. “It’s because of the dress, isn’t it?”

Adrian raised his eyes to mine while pouring wineinto his glass. “Took you long enough to figure it out.” His lips curve into a smile, making me want to crawl under the table. “Wine?”

After dinner, I find myself back in the cozy comfort of my new bedroom, the events of the evening swirling in my mind. As I slip under the covers, my phone lights up.

Up for a call?

I hesitate for a moment, my thumb hovering over the screen before I type out a response, telling her I’ll call her tomorrow. I’m not in the mood for her teasing me about my crush tonight. I hit send and set my phone aside, letting out a contented sigh.

Turning on the tree nightlight beside my bed, I’m reminded of Adrian’s gesture. And just as quick, I’m reminded of him changing in his room. As I settle into bed and shut my eyes, thoughts of his shirtless body linger in my mind, refusing to fade away. Despite my best efforts to push them aside, I find myself replaying the image over and over again, unable to resist images of me pinned under his chest.

“Stop,” I whisper to myself. With a sigh, I turn to the side and force my eyes shut.

Chapter seven

~ADRIAN~

I sit at the kitchen island, sipping my morning coffee and skimming through work emails. The sleep leaves me with each sip as I curse myself for staying up way longer than I should have. When I finally went to bed, unwelcome thoughts of Elana invaded my mind.

Elana. I suddenly remember I have a guest. A guest who, according to Ethan, has a tendency to sleep through alarms. I tap my phone to check the time to see it’s 7:38 am. Elana should bee up by now. Her classes start at 9, and she’s still nowhere to be found. I sigh, setting my coffee down, annoyed at how irresponsible she is. We’re going to have to work on that.

I rise from the barstool, deciding to take matters into my own hands. I grab my phone tuck it into the pocket of my dress pants and head out of the kitchen.

Making my way upstairs, my irritation grows at each door I pass. As I approach Elana’s door, my hand poised to knock, her voice reaches my ears from the other side of it. Is she awake? Her voice reaches me again, and I can finally make out exactly what it is. She’s fucking moaning! My brows furrow as my mind immediately jumps to the most logical conclusion.

Is she touching herself?

“Adrian,” I hear her softly through the door, and the sound of her moaning my name hits me square in the chest. My eyebrows shoot up, and I turn to look at the door as if I can see her through it. The little brat is getting herself off on me.

I feel my lips stretch into a smile, and before I know it, I’m grinning. I close my eyes, and the image of her on the bed, legs spread wide and her hand between them, flashes in my mind. Heat floods my body at the mere thought and a surge of electricity courses through me. I shake my head, trying to banish the inappropriate imagesfrom my mind.

Another moan comes from the other side of the door, long and loud. Is she this loud on purpose? I fist my hands until my knuckles are white. Suddenly, I’m angry. Angry I can’t kick the door in and put my hand around that delicate throat of hers while I tell her to keep going and to look at me while she rubs herself. If she’s fucking bold enough to do that in my house while being late for class, she’ll have to do it in under my gaze. My cock presses against the constraints of my slacks, begging for more room to grow, and I almost slam my first into the door.