Page 34 of Stranded with the Resort Owner

Then—softly, a snort of laughter under his breath.

"I don't know." Lucas says, lips twitching. "Last night… letting go didn't seem to be a problem for you."

My head jerks toward him.

He's looking away—out at the mountains, not at me—but the smirk curves at the corner of his mouth, unmistakable.

And then it's gone.

That smile.

Wiped clean.

His voice drops.

"Not that it matters now."

It's not cold. Not distant. Just… final.

The kind of final that leaves no room for questions.

But I ask one anyway.

Chapter 8

The Line Between Us

"Do you regret it?"I ask quietly.

His head turns slowly. Brows slightly drawn. "Regret what?"

"Drawing that line?" I lift a shoulder. Try to sound casual. Fail miserably. "Shutting it down before we had a chance to figure out what it was."

He doesn't answer right away. He just studies me like he's trying to decide if honesty is worth the risk.

Finally, he breathes out through his nose. Low. Frustrated.

"I don't regret the boundary." He says. "But I hate that I needed to make it."

That lands deep.

He looks away again, jaw tightening. "What happened in the elevator…" He pauses. Swallows hard. "That wasn't just about sex. It wasn't about control. I let myself go too far. You pushed—and I pushed back… harder. That's not who I want to be."

"I wasn't scared of you." I say softly. "You had my consent."

"That's not the point." The words crack like a whip, and immediately, he curses under his breath. Closes his eyes. Breathes.

When he looks at me again, the control is back—but barely. It's frayed at the edges, barely holding.

Then the truth spills out—low and stripped of all defenses.

"I wanted to make it hurt. Not because you asked for it. Not because it turned you on. But because I was angry. I was humiliated. And for one second…" He swallows. "I wanted to punish you for it."

The air between us shudders.

His voice goes hoarse. "That's the line, Amelia. That's the part I can't live with. Not that you said yes. But that I didn't care. I wanted to hurt you. I knew you'd let me, and I used that to excuse it."

He looks down, hands flexing at his sides like he doesn't know what to do with them. "And like I said, you don't get to romanticize it or tell me it's okay. Because it wasn't."

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