The soft knock at the door startled Angel, pulling her out of the mont.
Without thinking, she quickly ended the call, her face lighting up with excitent as she stood, ready to greet him.
"Tryson," she said, a smile spreading across her face, her heart fluttering with anticipation.
But as she opened the door, her smile faltered, the joy slipping away as her eyes t the unexpected visitor.
It wasn’t Tryson.
A frown replaced her smile, confusion clouding her thoughts.
Where was he? Hadn’t he promised to et her here? S
he glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him sowhere, anywhere.
"Good day, ma’am," ca the polite voice of the waiter standing in the doorway, interrupting her thoughts.
Angel forced a smile, trying to hide the disappointnt that lingered in her chest, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Her gaze instinctively drifted behind the waiter, scanning for any sign of Tryson. But there was no sign of him.
Just the trolley, neatly arranged, carrying whatever had been ordered.
"This was requested to be taken to your room," the waiter said with a small, professional smile.
Angel hesitated for a mont, her disappointnt barely masked, before stepping aside and allowing the waiter into the room.
She pushed the door open a little further, her mind still racing, still searching for Tryson, wondering where he could possibly be.
As the trolley was carefully placed in the room, a strange tingling sensation ran through Angel.
Sothing didn’t sit right.
Where was Tryson?
She glanced at her phone, the contact list staring back at her, and for a mont, she considered calling him.
But as she dialed, the call rang and rang, no answer.
A sinking feeling twisted in her stomach.
Where could he be?
But before she could dwell on it further, the rich, tantalizing aroma of the food wafted through the air, pulling her focus away.
She didn’t realize when her feet moved, drawn by the aroma, but suddenly she found herself walking towards the dining area. The trolley, now a small distraction, was pushed along with her.
Curiosity tugged at her, and despite her questions about Tryson, she found herself digging into the al.
She paused for a second, wondering if maybe—just maybe—this was sothing Tryson had sent her, a way to show he cared even if he couldn’t be there.
But as she took another bite, her worries lted away, if only for a mont. The food was incredible. The flavors rich, the presentation perfect—it was exactly what she needed, even if it wasn’t what she had been expecting.
For a fleeting mont, she allowed herself to savor the al, her mind quieting, if only temporarily.
She stood up from the dining chair and dialed for food service, requesting that they co collect the plates from the room.
As she walked toward the bedroom, an unexpected thought crossed her mind, and she felt a sudden desire to take a bath.
Without hesitation, she stepped into the bathroom, letting the warm water cascade over her body.
She tilted her head back, eyes closing, and in that mont, her mind replayed the mory of the kiss she had shared with Tryson.
A soft blush colored her cheeks, and a giggle escaped her lips, like that of a child caught in a sweet, innocent mont.
But then, her thoughts drifted to the night when both she and Tryson had been intoxicated.
Her heart raced, and she realized just how much tension had been released from her body in those monts.
Unconsciously, her hands moved toward her swollen nipples, gently teasing them under the spray of the shower.
A soft moan slipped from her lips as she bit her lower lip, and for a fleeting mont, she could almost feel Tryson’s gaze on her. With a start, her eyes snapped open, as though waking from a deep, intense dream.
She was stunned by her own behavior, but deep down, she knew that the kiss she had shared with Tryson had affected her more than she cared to admit.
What was happening to her senses?
For heaven’s sake, she had been craving so tranquility, yet her body seed to ache with longing for Tryson.
She felt out of control, her emotions swirling as the reality of her pregnancy lood over her thoughts.
She knew she had to be careful, especially now, at such a delicate stage of her pregnancy.
Angel stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a cozy robe, her wet skin still dripping with water.
As she walked into the room, her mind was preoccupied with the thought of what to wear, when suddenly the suite door creaked open.
Turning toward the sound, her breath hitched as her eyes locked onto Tryson.
"Tryson?" Angel called out softly, her voice trembling.
She stared at him, her heart racing, as if the very air had been stolen from her lungs.
At the sa ti, Tryson couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.
He watched as Angel stood there in her robe, and a wave of desire surged within him. He clenched his lips, swallowing hard, the sensation of his dry throat like a lump he couldn’t shake.
Just seeing her in sothing as simple as that robe seed to overwhelm all of his senses. A stirring in his pants reminded him how deeply his body was responding to her presence.
This was going to be a wild three days, spending them with Angel.
"You brought the dress?" Angel asked softly as she moved closer to him, noticing the suitcase handle in his hand.
"Yeah, I did," Tryson replied casually, but his eyes never left her.
He followed her every movent, yet as she neared him, a wave of regret washed over him.
He wished he hadn’t let his gaze linger on her so long, feeling a mix of tension and desire tighten in his chest.
What he was staring at wasn’t good for him, and deep down, he knew it.
His eyes couldn’t help but linger on the way Angel’s robe clung to her body, the subtle outline of her nipple pressing through the fabric, and the delicate curve of her cleavage left exposed.
Her wet hair, dripping over her skin, only heightened the effect.
He swallowed hard, feeling the tension build inside him.
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