Page 15 of Tempting My Billionaire Master

The lights dimmed, and Ethan pressed play on a remote, revealing the opening credits of a film I hadn’t expected: The Great Gatsby. But this wasn’t the flashy, modern version I’d seen before—it was the 1949 adaptation.

“I didn’t know you were into classic films,” I said, genuinely surprised.

Ethan shrugged, his eyes never leaving the screen. “I’m not a movie snob, but there’s something sincere about old movies that appeals to me.”

As the story unfolded, I found myself agreeing with him. Watching this version of Gatsby without CGI or familiar actors was a refreshing change. It definitely felt more raw and gritty than the version I knew. The actor playing Gatsby was perfectly charming yet sinister, and I found myself liking him more than Leonardo DiCaprio’s portrayal.

During the scene where Gatsby and Daisy first met, Ethan’s hand found its way over my shoulder, pulling me closer. The warmth and scent of his body enveloped me as I instinctively leaned into his embrace, feeling safe and protected in his arms.

The longer we watched, the more difficult it became for me to concentrate on the film. Ethan’s hand stroked my arm, sending little thrills through me and memories of our steamy encounter in the hot tub flooded my mind, reminding me just how much I’d missed the feel of Ethan’s body against mine. I tried to push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the way people in 1949 depicted the high society of the Jazz Age.

The camera work seemed more direct and naive than what I was used to—no reliance on special effects—and yet, it managed to capture the essence of the era effortlessly. I felt like I was seeing the world through a different lens, one that prioritized emotion and authenticity over spectacle.

Ethan’s hand tightened on my arm, and he pulled me closer. I looked up to find him watching me, eyes dark with desire. “Are you enjoying the movie?” he asked softly.

I licked my lips, watching his gaze track the movement. “I was,” I said, “until you distracted me.”

A smug smile curved his lips. “My apologies.” He didn’t sound very apologetic.

“Isn’t it amazing how they could tell such a powerful story without all the flashiness of modern cinema?” I whispered to Ethan.

He nodded, his strong jawline illuminated by the flickering light of the movie. “Sometimes I think we’ve lost something in our pursuit of technical perfection.”

As the film continued, I let myself get lost in the story, all the while snuggled securely in Ethan’s arms. And for a moment, it felt like everything outside that little mini-cinema—the danger, the bunker, and the uncertain future—had ceased to exist. I felt safe, and dare I say it, at home.

Nick and Jordan left the frame holding hands and the credits began to roll. I felt a melancholic heaviness settle in my chest. It was as if the illusion of normalcy we’d created in this darkened room was about to shatter, leaving me exposed once more to the harsh realities of our situation. But for now, I lingered in Ethan’s embrace, cherishing the warmth of his body pressed against mine. His strong arms were wrapped around me, his chest rising and falling against my back with each breath. I felt cocooned in safety, and a part of me wanted to stay like this forever.

“Did you enjoy the film more than the modern remake?” he asked gently, his deep voice resonating in my ear.

I hesitated before answering, savoring the feeling of his arms around me. “I don’t know. They felt like two different stories. Both beautiful in their own way.”

But as I thought about it, I couldn’t help but draw parallels between Daisy’s selfish actions in The Great Gatsby and my own attempt to escape yesterday. Had I been trying to ruin the fragile connection Ethan and I shared? I frowned, suddenly feeling guilty.

“Hey,” Ethan said softly, noticing the change in my expression. “Are you okay?”

A frown tugged at my lips. “I’m sorry for running off yesterday. I don’t know what came over me.”

Ethan kissed the top of my head. “Don’t think that way. You’ve been through a trauma, and it’s only natural to have moments of fear and doubt.”

He was right. Coming here, escaping into a fantasy world for a few hours, had given me a reprieve from the chaos that had overtaken my life. I craned my neck to look up at him. “Thank you. For understanding. For always knowing exactly what I need.”

One hand slid up to cup my cheek as his head dipped down. Our lips met in a slow, deep kiss that ignited my blood like wildfire. By the time we broke apart, I was breathless and aching for more.

The scent of him enveloped me, stirring up desire deep within my core. My heartbeat raced as I looked up into his eyes, seeing the same yearning reflected back at me. Unable to resist any longer, I pulled him down for a searing, passionate kiss.

Our lips melded together hungrily, tongues dancing and exploring each other’s mouths with fervor. The world outside ceased to exist once again, replaced by the primal need to be close, to feel the heat of his touch.

“Take me toourbedroom,” I whispered when we finally parted.

Suddenly, the lights flickered and the bunker went dark.

Chapter Six

Chloe

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” I teased as he carried me into the pantry. “Candles? Really?”

“The generator stopped working. We need them anyway,” he retorted with a smirk. “But I’ll deal with that in the morning. Right now, I have more important matters to attend to.”

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