3: Moan for Him

Natalie remained silent for a moment before lifting her gaze. "If I remember correctly, Mr. Sterling, what happened between us was consensual. You’re not here to settle scores, are you?"

She and Ryan had thoroughly betrayed each other, but she had been smart about it—choosing someone Ryan would never dare to cross. The only miscalculation was that Ethan, instead of moving on, was sitting right in front of her.

Ethan didn’t respond right away. The car continued its smooth ride, and just when Natalie assumed he wasn’t going to say anything, he dropped a bombshell.

"Would you be open to a long-term arrangement?"

Natalie stared at him like he had lost his mind.

This was Ethan Sterling, the man rumored to be cold, disciplined, and unattainable. And he was suggesting this?

But she had no interest in getting further entangled with Ryan’s circle, so her answer was swift and firm.

"I refuse."

At that moment, her phone vibrated again.

Another unknown number.

This time, the caller didn’t give her the option to decline. Instead, they sent a message.

**[Not answering, huh? I’m waiting for you outside your building. Let’s see if you dare come home.]**

**[You think Ethan actually cares about you? Don’t get cocky just because you slept with him. You’re nothing to him.]**

Fucking psycho.

Natalie took a deep breath, then, just as Ethan looked away, she placed her hand on his thigh.

"I think I should take back what I said earlier. How about coming over to my place?"

---

The moment she hit send, everything spiraled out of control.

Their reflections were cast against the mirrored elevator walls, separated only by a small suitcase. The air between them was thick with tension.

That same feeling returned—the sensation of being hunted.

But between Ryan potentially lurking in the shadows and Ethan standing right beside her, she would rather take her chances with Ethan.

*Ding—*

The elevator stopped midway. A group of people entered.

Natalie instinctively stepped back, only for a large hand to grip her waist.

She stiffened.

That familiar scent surrounded her, and through the thin fabric of her dress, she felt his fingers subtly tracing the zipper at her side.

This was ridiculous.

Was she hallucinating?

In the reflection of the mirror, Ethan looked as poised and refined as ever—cool, untouchable, the perfect gentleman.

No one would ever guess what his hand was doing.

"Not working today?"

A neighbor greeted her casually, then glanced at Ethan. "Your boyfriend?"

Natalie could barely manage a smile.

Ethan’s hand was moving upward.

"Just a friend," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

The neighbor gave a knowing grin. "Oh, I get it. You young people and your fun."

Natalie: …

Thankfully, the elevator arrived at their floor.

"We’re here," she whispered.

"Mm."

Ethan responded in a low hum, casually taking her suitcase with one hand while shielding her from the crowd with the other.

They stepped out together.

Her apartment was in a two-unit-per-floor layout. Ethan glanced at the door number before she opened it.

The moment she stepped inside, she was immediately pinned against the entryway.

The motion-sensor light flicked on.

The door clicked shut.

His breath, warm and heavy, brushed against her ear.

"Just a friend?"

His fingers toyed with her zipper. "Do you invite *all* your friends over like this?"

The silky fabric slipped down to her ankles.

Then, he lifted her effortlessly, her long hair sweeping through the air as she was brought face to face with him.

"Why the change of heart?" Ethan asked directly.

Natalie had no real answer.

She couldn’t exactly say she had just swapped one problem for another, possibly even bigger one.

Her fingers absentmindedly traced his shoulder, her gaze locked onto his. With her face and that expression, she was *dangerous*. He wasn’t sure how other men resisted her—frankly, his own years of self-restraint had just been proven laughable.

"Mr. Sterling, do you want the truth or a lie?"

Ethan smirked.

Without warning, he flipped her around, pressing her against the wall.

His hands moved lower.

Natalie gasped, realizing what he was doing.

"Wait… we don’t have—"

She was cut off by the sight of his outstretched hand holding a wallet.

"Get one yourself," he said.

Natalie snatched it from him, fumbling in her hurry.

And there it was.

Ha.

Men.

No matter how composed they seemed, they never forgot to carry these.

Ethan didn’t bother explaining himself. He *was* prepared. No shame in admitting it.

She was too wrapped up in the moment to care anymore.

Just then, her phone rang from the entryway cabinet.

Neither of them moved to answer.

But whoever was on the other end was persistent, refusing to give up.

Natalie frowned.

She already knew who it was.

Ryan.

Having failed to ambush her outside, he had resorted to blowing up her phone.

"Wait—" she tried to say.

But stopping wasn’t an option anymore.

In fact, it only made things escalate further.

Because she wasn’t fully cooperating, Ethan exhaled sharply and, with clear impatience, reached over and pressed the answer button himself.

The moment the call connected, Ryan’s furious voice exploded through the speaker.

"Finally decided to pick up?!" he yelled. "Did you seriously bring Ethan upstairs?! What the hell are you two doing up there?! You think I don’t know?!"

His voice was laced with rage and humiliation.

"Natalie, let me tell you—without *me*, you won’t last a day in that company. You think you’ll get that promotion to admin manager? Not happening. Kick Ethan out *right now* if you know what’s good for you!"

His words dripped with malice and warning.

Even without speaker mode, his voice filled the silent room.

Natalie’s chest rose and fell with anger.

This bastard.

Her career had always been built on her *own* skills, but she knew Ryan had the connections to make her life difficult.

Too bad for him—she didn’t have a wealthy father to pull strings for her.

Ethan grabbed her chin, tilting her face up.

That smirk of his deepened.

He had figured out *exactly* what was going through her mind.

"Don’t bite so hard."

His voice was laced with amusement.

Natalie’s face turned red.

She had been biting her lip, struggling to suppress any sounds.

It was mortifying.

Especially because *he* still looked impeccable—fully dressed, not a hair out of place—while *she* was in complete disarray.

She had lost all composure.

"Moan for him."

Ethan’s lips barely moved, but his command was clear.

Natalie clamped down harder, determined to resist.

But he simply tightened his grip.

A soft sound escaped her lips—sweet, breathy, unmistakably *compromised*.

The effect was immediate.

On the other end of the call, Ryan *lost his mind.*

"You fucking—Natalie! Get your ass downstairs right now!"

Natalie nearly laughed.

Why the hell didn’t he just come up here himself?

Oh, right.

Because he knew he couldn’t touch Ethan.

Natalie knew Ethan was pissed.

And that wasn’t good news for Ryan.

Sensing an opportunity, she wrapped her arms around Ethan’s neck, brushing her lips against his.

"Help me out?" she murmured.

His gaze darkened.

Without hesitation, he removed his glasses.

"You made the right choice," he said.

Lifting the phone to his ear, he spoke into it.

"Something you need?"

The moment Ryan heard that voice, he panicked and hung up.

Pathetic.

Natalie’s lips curled in contempt.

No regrets. Adults had to live with their choices.

But she hadn’t anticipated how much Ethan would *charge* for this little favor.

From the entryway to the living room.

From the living room to the bathroom.

From the bathroom to the bedroom.

By the time it was over, she didn’t even have the strength to open her eyes.

Ethan, still composed, traced lazy patterns along her back.

"If this were a paid service, I doubt you could afford me," she thought to herself.

"So, how does it feel using me?"

She didn’t answer.

Mostly because she was too damn tired.

Ethan leaned in.

"I’ll give you a week to think it over. I expect a satisfying answer."