forever in repeat

David stepped out of the car and shut the door quietly, as if the sound might jolt her awake. The cool night air brushed against his face, grounding him as he rounded the car. Opening the passenger door, he crouched down, careful not to jostle her too much as he slipped one arm under her legs and the other around her back.

As he lifted her, her lashes fluttered open just enough for her to see him, and a lazy smile stretched across her lips.

"David," she murmured, her voice soft and slurred.

"Yeah," he muttered under his breath, looking away from her face as heat crawled up his neck. "Just sleep, okay?"

But she didn't reply. Her head rested against his chest as if she belonged there, and David swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way she felt in his arms.

The motel wasn't just a regular roadside dump. No, this was one of David Grayson's properties—Blue moon—a discreet yet luxurious place for the rich and powerful to disappear when they needed privacy.It hadn't been his first choice, but tonight, it was the safest option.

Walking through the grand entrance, he nodded at the receptionist, who wisely didn't ask any questions. The staff here knew better than to pry. Without stopping, he headed straight for the private elevator, its polished steel reflecting their forms. The doors slid shut with a quiet hum, and David adjusted Emily slightly in his arms. She stirred again, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she mumbled something he couldn't quite make out.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, revealing a pristine hallway of black marble floors and subtle golden accents. David's footsteps echoed as he carried Emily, her light form cradled against his chest. He could feel her warmth seeping through his shirt, and her scent—a mix of sweet perfume and the faintest hint of alcohol—made his grip tighten involuntarily.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head to clear the unwelcome thoughts flooding his mind.

David carried her to the door at the end of the hall, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet, balancing her weight in one arm.

He fumbled with the keycard, cursing under his breath when it didn't scan the first time. "Fucking thing..." he hissed before it finally clicked open.

Inside, the suite was immaculate, modern, and undeniably luxurious. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering city lights, and the faint hum of the air conditioning filled the silence. David flipped on a lamp, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow.

Emily stirred again, her arms instinctively curling around his neck as he carried her into the bedroom.

"Almost there," he muttered under his breath, though he wasn't sure if he was talking to her or himself.

The bedroom was spacious, dominated by a king-sized bed draped in crisp white linens. He carefully lowered her onto the mattress, tucking the covers around her. For a moment, he let himself look at her—her flushed cheeks, the loose strands of hair framing her face. She looked so goddamn peaceful, it almost made him forget how much trouble she'd caused tonight.

Her eyes opened again, glassy but searching. "David…" she murmured, her voice barely audible.

"Shh," he said softly, pulling the blanket over her. He turned to leave, but before he could take a step, her hand shot out from beneath the covers, gripping his wrist.

"Don't go," she said, her voice barely audible, but the desperation in it was unmistakable.

David froze, glancing back at her. "Emily..."

"Don't leave me," she said again, sitting up slowly, her eyes glassy but filled with something... something he couldn't place.

David's jaw tightened. "Emily, you need to sleep. You're drunk as fuck right now, and—"

Her grip on his wrist tightened as she sat up slightly, her hair falling in disarray around her face. "Don't leave me," she repeated, her voice trembling.

David clenched his fists, willing himself to stay calm. "Emily, I'm not leaving. I just… I'll get you some water, okay?"

But she wasn't listening. She knelt on the bed, swaying slightly, her wide eyes locking onto his. Her vulnerability was a fucking weapon, one he had no defense against.

Her arms slid around his neck before he could stop her, pulling him down. The softness of her touch sent an electric jolt through him, and he froze.

"Emily, what the fuck are you doing?" he muttered, his voice strained.

Her face was so close now that he could see every detail—her flushed cheeks, the faint freckles on her nose, and her lips, parted slightly as she caught her breath. And then, she licked her bottom lip, her gaze flickering down to his mouth.

"Emily," he warned, but his voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

"I don't want you to go," she whispered.

David swallowed hard, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He needed to push her away, to untangle her arms and leave before things spiraled out of control. But her scent, her warmth, her fucking everything—it was intoxicating.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a soft, tentative kiss. For a moment, David didn't move. His brain screamed at him to stop, to walk the fuck out of this room and never look back. But his body betrayed him.

His hands found her waist, and instead of pushing her away, he pulled her closer. The kiss deepened, the hesitation melting away as the heat between them grew.

"Fuck," David muttered against her lips, his voice raw and filled with frustration—at her, at himself, at how fucking good she felt.

Emily's fingers tangled in his hair, her touch sending shivers down his spine. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't fucking stop.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

This couldn't happen.

But it was happening, and David was powerless to fight it.

His grip on her waist tightened as he pulled her closer still, their bodies pressed together. Her lips were soft and tasted faintly of the wine she'd had earlier, a taste that only made him want more.

A small voice in the back of his head tried to protest, to remind him of all the reasons this was wrong. But it was drowned out by the thundering of his heartbeat and the feel of her against him.

"Emily," he said again, his voice a mix of desperation and desire.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes half-lidded. "Don't stop," she whispered.

David's breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt. He stared at her, his thoughts warring with his emotions.

He should stop.

He had to stop.

But instead, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was anything but tentative. This time, it was hungry, desperate, and unapologetic.

Emily responded instantly, her arms tightening around his neck as she kissed him back with equal fervor. Her movements were uncoordinated, a mix of eagerness and inexperience, but it only added to the fire burning between them.

David's hands moved of their own accord, one sliding up to cradle her face while the other stayed firmly on her waist. He tilted her head slightly, deepening the kiss as he lost himself in the moment.