JAY-JAY POV
We just had sex in the car.
"Ready to go home?" Keifer asked, his voice steady, almost casual, like nothing about what just happened had shaken him.
I nodded, too stunned to speak, my body still humming with the chaos he left behind.
He slipped into his pants with practiced ease, then reached for his shirt. Without hesitation, he pulled it over my shoulders, buttoning it halfway himself as if I belonged wrapped in his clothes.
The fabric smelled like him—warm, reckless, familiar. I glanced at him, words caught in my throat, but his eyes met mine with that same dangerous calm.
"Good," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Because tonight, you're going home with me."
"Come on, let's go," Keifer said firmly. "You're sitting next to me."
I nodded, slipping out of the back seat and sliding into the passenger side. He settled into the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life as the neon glow of the club faded behind us.
The road stretched ahead, quiet except for the hum of the tires and the faint echo of music still ringing in my ears.
Then his hand slid onto my thigh.
I stiffened, glancing at him, but his eyes stayed on the road, jaw set, expression unreadable. The weight of his touch was deliberate, steady, claiming.
"Keifer…" I whispered, unsure if it was a warning or a plea.
His lips curved into a dangerous smile, eyes flicking toward me for just a second. "Relax, Jay‑Jay. I drive better when you're close."
"You idiot," I muttered, smacking his shoulder.
"You couldn't wait until we get home?" I kept hitting him, half‑annoyed, half‑teasing.
"Jay, stop—I'm driving," he snapped, one hand gripping the wheel tighter, the other still stubbornly resting on my thigh.
I crossed my arms, glaring at him. "Then keep both hands on the wheel, Mr. Watson. Or do you want us to crash?"
He chuckled, eyes flicking toward me again. "If we crash, at least I'll die happy."
I groaned, rolling my eyes, but the heat in my cheeks betrayed me. "God, you're impossible."
"Impossible to resist," he shot back smoothly, smirk never fading.
The car sped down the dark road, headlights cutting through the night, but inside the cabin it felt like a battlefield—my irritation clashing with his reckless charm, neither of us willing to back down.
"Jay, I decided to go on a trip this week," Keifer said suddenly, his tone shifting from playful to firm.
"Fine," I replied, still staring out the window, trying to sound unaffected.
"Where are we going?" I asked, eyes flicking toward him.
"We'll go to our private island," he said, voice steady, like the decision was already carved in stone.
"When?" I asked, turning to face him.
"Tomorrow morning," he answered without hesitation.
The words hung heavy in the air.
Tomorrow.
No warning, no time to prepare—just Keifer's will, dragging me into his world again.
I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening.
The island wasn't just a getaway.
It was isolation.
His rules.
His control.
I'd be trapped there with him.
"How long will we stay there?" I asked again, my voice softer this time.
"For one week," he said, eyes fixed on the road, tone steady like he'd already mapped out every detail.
"What made you plan this trip?" I pressed, curiosity gnawing at me.
His lips curved, but it wasn't his usual smirk. It was quieter, almost thoughtful. "We didn't go on our honeymoon," he said simply.
The words hit me harder than I expected. My chest tightened, the weight of everything we'd skipped, everything we'd rushed through, suddenly pressing down.
I turned to him, stunned. "So this… this is our honeymoon?"
He nodded once, his hand tightening on the wheel, the other still resting on my thigh like an anchor. "Yeah. And this time, Jay‑Jay, I'm not letting anything interrupt us."
"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
Keifer's head turned slightly, his smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "What was that, Jay‑Jay?" he asked, voice low, teasing, dangerous.
crossed my arms, staring out the window. "You heard me."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through the car. His hand squeezed my thigh, deliberate, firm.
"Profanity," He said smiling like a maniac
"Keifer, you're driving," I said, exasperated.
"Fine," he replied, smirk tugging at his lips. "I'll get it at home."
I turned to him, incredulous. "Did you not have enough? We just had sex in your car."
His eyes flicked toward me, dark and unyielding, before returning to the road.
"I can never have enough of you," he said, voice low, steady, carrying a weight that made my chest tighten.
The words silenced me.
My irritation faltered, replaced by something heavier, something I didn't want to admit.
I looked away, staring at the blur of headlights rushing past, but his hand stayed on my thigh, grounding me, claiming me.
And for the first time, I realized—this wasn't just about desire.
It was about Keifer needing me in ways I wasn't sure I was ready to face.
The drive felt endless, his hand never leaving my thigh, his smirk never fading. Every mile closer to home tightened the air between us.
Finally, the car slowed, headlights sweeping across the familiar driveway. My stomach twisted—home should have felt safe, but with Keifer, it was anything but predictable.
He killed the engine, silence crashing down after the hum of the road. Then he turned to me, eyes dark, voice steady. "Out. You're coming inside with me."
I swallowed, nodding, and stepped out.
The night air was cool, but the moment his hand pressed against the small of my back, guiding me toward the door, heat surged again.
Inside, the house was dim, shadows stretching across the walls. He didn't bother with lights. His presence filled the space enough.
"Jay‑Jay," he murmured, closing the door behind us, his tone low, commanding. "You're mine here. Don't forget that."
I opened my mouth to argue, but his hand caught mine, pulling me closer, his dominance radiating in every movement.
The house felt different tonight—less like walls and furniture, more like his territory.
And I knew, stepping deeper inside, that Keifer wasn't just bringing me home.
He kissed me, and I immediately responded, our lips crashing together like it was the end of the world.
His hands moved to my shirt, fumbling with the buttons, but I pressed my palm against his chest, stopping him.
"Wait until we go to the island tomorrow," I whispered, breathless.
"But—" he started, frustration flashing in his eyes.
"Keifer, wait," I said firmly, meeting his gaze. "Learn to wait. Then you can claim me all you want."
For a moment, silence hung heavy between us. His jaw tightened, his eyes dark, but then his lips curved into a dangerous smile.
"You think you can tease me like this and walk away?" he murmured, voice low, rough.
I smirked, pulling his shirt tighter around me. "That's exactly what I'm doing."
His laugh was sharp, reckless, vibrating through the room. "Fine, Jay‑Jay. Tomorrow morning, on that island… you're mine. Completely."
The promise lingered in the air, hotter than any kiss, heavier than any touch.
And I knew—tomorrow wasn't just a trip. It was the storm we'd both been waiting for.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
💙🔥 Author's Note 🔥💙
Sorry for the late delay, guys 😅📚.
I know I've been posting chapters on my other book, but yesterday I had a big APUSH test 🏫✍️.
And wow… history is supposed to be easy, right?
Nope.
Not APUSH—it's literally a college‑level class 😭💭.
Why did I take it? I don't even know 😂.
Anyway, I went a little off topic, but yeah—I'll try to post another chapter today ✨📖.
I'm running out of ideas though, so please drop some in the comments 🐧💬.
This book is about to end soon!!! 🥹💔
Let's make these last chapters unforgettable 🌟🔥.