Just One Orgasm!

The entire day had passed beneath a quiet cloud of anticipation.

Emilia hated herself for it.

She had told herself repeatedly that Adrian Ashford was not driving across state lines over a conversation.

He was a university lecturer, a busy man, and a professor with responsibilities, meetings, lectures, research, and. ot someone who would spend hours on the road because a woman had ignored his messages.

Besides, he didn’t know where she lived.

Right?

Every time a car slowed outside the house, she found herself glancing toward the front window.

Every notification made her heart skip, and every unfamiliar engine outside had her peeking through the curtains before scolding herself.

"You can ignore this, Emilia," she muttered for perhaps the twentieth time that day.

Her mother looked up from where she was chopping vegetables.

"Hm?"

"Nothing."

She absolutely refused to admit she’d been waiting.

...

By evening, she’d almost convinced herself she’d won.

He wasn’t coming.

The messages had simply been another one of his impossible attempts at getting the last word.

She should have known better.

To her dreed, the doorbell rang.

A single, clear chime.

Her entire body stiffened. The television continued playing in the background. Her mother immediately reached for the arm of the sofa and stood.

"I’ll get it."

"No!" Emilia yelled suddenly.

The word escaped Emilia far louder than she’d intended.

Both women froze.

Her mother blinked. "Emilia?"

She forced an awkward smile that felt painfully unnatural.

"I’ll... get it."

Her mother looked at her with obvious confusion. "You’ve never volunteered to answer the door before."

"I just..." she cleared her throat. "I’ve been sitting all evening."

It was a terrible excuse.

Her mother studied her for another second before smiling. "Alright." She settled back onto the sofa. "Don’t be long. The show’s getting interesting."

Emilia nodded much too quickly. "I won’t."

Her legs felt strangely heavy as she crossed the small hallway.

’Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him. Please...’ she praye.

She opened the door, and her breath caught.

It was him.

Adrian stood beneath the warm porch light, hands tucked casually into the pockets of a charcoal overcoat with his dark hair, and grey eyes.

The faint evening breeze disturbed a few strands across his forehead. His jaw looked as though someone had carved it from marble.

And those lips...

She hated herself for noticing them first.

"You..."

He looked exactly as calm as he’d sounded in every text message.

"I asked you to stay away from me."

"I’m here to talk." His voice remained even, and steady, as though he’d expected that greeting.

She folded her arms. "You drove all the way here?"

"I did."

"That’s insane. I asked you to stay away...."

"Who’s at the door?" Her mother’s voice floated from the living room, interrupting her.

Adrian lifted one eyebrow, slowly. Amusement danced behind his eyes.

Emilia closed hers for one brief second.

"Oh, this is unbelievable." She stepped aside with obvious reluctance. "Come in."

He inclined his head. "Ladies first."

Only then did she notice the bouquet he held. Fresh white tulips rested carefully in his hand.

He held them out. "For your mother."

Emilia stared at them. She raised a brow in disbelief. "You brought flowers?"

"It seemed appropriate."

She accepted them before she could stop herself. "They’re beautiful." She smiled softly.

She turned, and walked into the house. He followed, quietly closing the front door behind him.

Her mother muted the television as soon as she saw them.

"Sweetheart." Her eyes moved from Emilia, to Adrian, and back again.

Emilia cleared her throat. "Mum..." she gestured at Adrian. "This is Professor Ashford, my lecturer."

"He..." She stumbled over the explanation. "He heard I’d been unwell, and he came to check on me."

Her mother looked genuinely surprised. "Professor?"

Adrian offered a polite smile. "Good evening, Mrs. Hayes."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you."

He held out the flowers. "These are for you."

Her mother’s eyes widened. "Oh my goodness... You didn’t have to."

She accepted the bouquet with a smile that instantly brightened the room. "They’re lovely."

"Thank you."

Adrian removed his coat. "I hope I’m not interrupting your evening."

"Not at all." Emilia’s mother laughed softly. "It’s rare for lecturers to care this much about their students."

Emilia looked anywhere except Adrian.

Her mother glanced between them thoughtfully before taking Adrian’s coat.

"I’ll hang this up."

"Thank you." Adrian thanked her.

A comfortable silence settled over the room.

Then her mother smiled. "Well, I think I’ll leave you two to talk."

Emilia looked up. "Mum?"

"I’ve got an early morning tomorrow." She walked over, and pressed a gentle kiss against Emilia’s forehead. "Don’t stay up too late."

"I won’t."

She smiled warmly at Adrian. "It was lovely meeting you."

"The pleasure was mine."

"Make yourself at home."

She bidded, then disappeared upstairs.

A bedroom door clicked shut moments later, and silence immediately reclaimed the house.

A different silence. One filled with everything neither of them had yet said.

Adrian drew a quiet breath.

"I—"

"Don’t."

He stopped.

"If you’re not ready to actually talk," Emilia said quietly, "don’t say anything." She folded her arms. "You’ve met my only family. You know everything about me."

She exhaled. "My turn."

His eyes held hers. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

He considered that, then nodded once.

"My full name..." He paused. "...is Adrian Ashford Belmont."

Emilia blinked.

Belmont.

The name echoed inside her head.

Not just wealthy, old money. Generational wealth. The Belmont Oil Empire had existed for generations.

Entire economies shifted whenever that family made a decision. Children learned the name in business classes, and people spent lifetimes trying to work for them.

She stared at him. "You’re a Belmont?"

"I am." He nodded casually.

"The Belmonts?" She asked.

"Yes."

"The oil company?"

"Among other things."

She paused. Her brain genuinely didn’t know how else to respond.

"You’ve got to be kidding me." She began pacing. "No, wait." She pointed at him. "You’re telling me you’re heir to one of the richest families in the country..."

"Current successor." He corrected.

"And you’re teaching undergraduates?"

His brows came together. "It sounds odd when you say it aloud."

"It sounds insane."

A faint smile touched his mouth. "There are reasons."

She folded her arms again. "I’m listening."

His expression became more serious. "About two years ago, I discovered irregularities involving one of our subsidiaries operating around Blackwood. I couldn’t investigate from the boardroom. I needed to understand what was happening from inside."

"So..." he paused for a second, to search her eyes. "I accepted a teaching position."

She stared at him. "You became a professor to investigate your own company?"

"That’s..." She searched for the right word. "...unbelievably dramatic." She shook her head slowly. "I don’t even know what to think anymore."

"You don’t have to decide tonight." He assured her. "However, you can’t even let out a breath of this."

Silence settled again, different and lighter this time. After a while she glanced toward the kitchen.

"Have you eaten?"

He looked genuinely thoughtful. "No."

"My mum made soup." She suddenly looked embarrassed. "It’s... not exactly impressive."

"If your mother cooked it..." he looked towards the kitchen. "I’m sure it’s excellent."

She smiled despite herself. "I’ll warm it up."

He followed her into the kitchen.

The microwave hummed quietly as she placed the bowl inside. She leaned against the counter, and he stood beside her.

He stood close enough for her to notice the familiar cedar scent lingering on his clothes.

She looked at him. She saw exhaustion hidden beneath them. Finally she asked the question that had lingered for days.

"Noah?"

His expression hardened almost imperceptibly. "You won’t be seeing him again."

She searched his face. "You sound very certain."

The certainty in his voice settled something inside her that she hadn’t realized was still trembling.

For the first time in days, she felt safe.

She stepped toward him slowly.

She reached up.

Adrian stepped within reach, and Emilia closed the distance.

Her hands slipped around the back of his neck, fingers threading into the soft strands of his hair as she rose onto her toes. Without a word, she kissed him.

It was gentle at first.

Adrian smiled against her mouth.

His hands found her waist, drawing her closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between them. Then, with effortless ease, he lifted her off the floor.

Emilia let out a surprised laugh that melted into another kiss as he carried her a few steps to the kitchen counter. He sat her carefully on the cool marble, settling himself between her knees.

She cupped his face, smiling into the kiss.

Adrian’s hand rested lightly at the back of her neck while the other remained at her waist, holding her close as the kiss deepened. Each kiss softer than the last.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together.

"Should we keep talking?" Adrian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Emilia smiled, brushing her thumb across his cheek.

"No." She dropped a light kiss on his lips again, and batted her eyelashes at him. "My room is just upstairs.’

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