Chapter 2

"You take the shower first." Silas undid the top button of his shirt, revealing his throat and a glimpse of his collarbone, before sitting on the sofa. "Wash the snow off. I don't want you getting sick and delaying work tomorrow."

Feeling like I had been granted a pardon, I grabbed a bathrobe and rushed into the bathroom.

The bathroom was extremely crude, separated only by a panel of translucent frosted glass, without even a lock. I turned on the shower, letting the hot water pour over my head, trying to use the physical heat to numb the maddening sensitivity of my skin.

But it didn't work. Without the medication to suppress it, the sensation of hot water running over my skin was magnified tenfold, like countless hands caressing me.

I gritted my teeth and washed quickly, wrapped the bathrobe tight, and walked out while drying my damp hair.

"Mr. Thorne, the bathroom is free, you can..."

Silas nodded, stood up, and walked in.

I stood in the middle of the room, at a loss. The large bed that took up most of the space felt like forbidden territory; I didn't dare approach it. That was where the boss slept, and I was just a lowly assistant.

I ended up curling myself into a ball on the only other seat—an old sofa facing the bathroom door.

The sound of running water soon started.

My gaze drifted uncontrollably toward that translucent frosted glass door.

Under the light, the tall figure projected onto the glass, his silhouette suffocatingly clear.

I watched him raise his arms, his shirt coming off to reveal broad shoulders and the lines of a powerful back. Next went the trousers, his movements sharp and elegant.

Finally... the briefs clinging to his body.

When that small piece of fabric dropped, I clamped a hand over my mouth, my heart hammering against my ribs. That blurred but impactful male outline was branded onto my vision without reservation.

A rush of heat instantly surged from deep within me. My addiction ignited like a spark landing in a barrel of gasoline.

I wanted to look away, but my body was frozen stiff. My hand trembled, uncontrollably reaching under my robe.

No, not here.

Just then, a rhythmic thumping sound drilled into my ears. The walls of this lodge were paper-thin.

Immediately after, a woman's stifled yet high-pitched moan came from the room next door: "Mmm... harder... ah... so deep..."

The sound of a man's ragged breathing mixed with the creaking of bedsprings exploded like thunder in the small room.

I completely crumbled.

That raw auditory stimulation, combined with the silhouette of the powerful man showering right in front of me, was a catastrophe for someone in the throes of withdrawal.

The moment my reason snapped, I couldn't hold back anymore.

I leaned back against the sofa and slowly spread my legs. Amidst the obscene background noise, my gaze locked onto Silas behind the glass door, my fingers desperately exploring the wetness between my thighs.

In that moment, I depravedly used him as my fantasy.

"Ah..."

Pleasure hit me like a tidal wave. I bit my lip, my body trembling with the movement of my fingers. Silas... Caleb's stepfather... my high-and-mighty boss...

Just as I was about to reach the peak, the water in the bathroom abruptly cut off.

In a split second, terror overrode lust. I yanked my hand out as if electrocuted, frantically pulled my robe closed, and shot up from the sofa.

The bathroom door opened.

Silas walked out. He wore only a white towel around his waist, water droplets still clinging to his broad chest. His hair was slicked back, wet, revealing a face as cold and sharp as a sculpture.

He looked at me as he dried his hair with a towel.

His grey-blue eyes narrowed.

I tried to feign calm, but it left me standing in a strange, rigid posture.

The room was deadly silent, except for the moans still echoing from next door.

It was humiliating. I was his subordinate, his stepson’s ex-girlfriend, yet here I was, listening to that sound in front of him, my body reacting in such a lewd way.

Silas tossed the towel aside and stepped closer, his imposing presence nearly suffocating me.

He stopped right in front of me, close enough that I could smell the mix of shower gel and male pheromones on him—a scent that only drove me crazier.

I was like prey backed into a corner, trembling, my eyes red and tearing up from the physiological overstimulation.

His eyes locked onto my hazy gaze.

"Elena, why is your face so red?"

"I... I'm just not feeling well..." I tried to back away, but my spine hit the cold wall.

"Not feeling well?" Silas leaned forward, cupped my burning cheek.

That rough friction sent a jolt straight between my legs, making my whole body shudder.