Page 12 of His Secret Merger

She surged forward, a whirlwind of intent. Each thrust was more forceful, more unyielding, as if she had been restraining herself just to teach me a lesson.

I gave up trying to stay silent. My hands gripped the sheets. My hips moved in time with hers because I couldn’tnotmeet her pace. I was so far gone—I just needed to be inside her, needed tofinish.

And then she clenched around me—tight, pulsing, impossible to resist—and everything else disappeared.

Afterward, I lay there for a while, wrecked. Chest rising and falling, arms loose at my sides, the blindfold still clinging to my temple like a warning label. Somewhere across the room, I heard the sound of the shower. Then the bathroom door creaked open.

I tugged the tie off, blinking into the dim, gold-washed light of the suite.

Juliette came out of the bathroom wearing my shirt with nothing underneath and curled up on the couch, her bare legs tucked beneath her, as if she hadn’t just rewritten my operating system and walked away with the manual. Her hair was tousled, her lips still kiss-bitten, and she looked like she’d slept better than I had in a year.

She didn’t even look up. “You’re quiet,” she said, scrolling.

“I’m thinking about how I can repay you.”

She smirked, shifting on the couch and lifting one leg up over the backrest—bare skin, long and smooth legs, disappearing under the hem of my shirt. She was still scrolling, still not looking at me.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she murmured.

I already had.

And the weekend was just getting started.

CHAPTER FOUR

Juliette

The Coconut Grove Country Club looked exactly how I felt—overdressed and pretending not to care.

I tugged my sunglasses down and stepped out of the car, spotting Gabrielle already perched on the terrace patio like she'd been there for hours. Two wine glasses waited between us, sweating gently in the heat, patient, expectant, and smugly chilled. I hated to admit it, but I was still tired from the weekend. Not emotionally. Physically. Damian had worn me out in the best possible way—and now I was paying for it with every step that felt slower than it should.

My thighs ached, and I’d slept through my alarm that morning, which was fine, because I didn’t have anywhere to be. Spring break. No grading, no lectures, no guilt. Just sunshine, mild soreness, and the occasional flashback to Damian’s mouth on my skin.

Gabrielle waved the way only my twin could—impatient and affectionate in the same flick of the wrist.

“Spring break suits you,” she said as I dropped into the seat across from her.

“Because I haven’t had to fake a lecture on pigment degradation all week?”

“Because you’re glowing. Also, your legs should be illegal.”

I grinned and reached for the wine. “I wore sunscreen and sin. It’s a cocktail.”

Gabrielle laughed, and for a minute, we just settled into the quiet hum of the terrace. The breeze off the bay was strong enough to make the heat tolerable. A golf cart zipped by in the distance. Someone’s phone pinged softly three tables over. Everything felt very… curated.

“I left Julian with Aria,” she said, sipping her glass. “She brought an entire tote of plastic zoo animals, so he’ll be fine until at least 3:30.”

“Unless he eats one.”

“He’ll teethe on the tiger and refuse to nap.”

I smiled into my glass. “You’ve memorized your toddler’s chaos patterns.”

“Survival,” she said. “And coffee. Lots of coffee.”

We clinked glasses and drank. For a minute, it was just that—light, easy, twin-sister catch-up with no agenda.

Except… she kept eyeing me like I had a story I wasn’t telling.

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