CEO’s Regret After I Divorced (Serena and Ryan) novel Chapter 224

Chapter 224: Chapter 224 Drunk Confessions

Serena’s POV

The manager grinned with dollar signs practically dancing in his eyes. "Alright boys, make sure these lovely ladies are well taken care of!"

The male models quickly swarmed around us, making me jump to my feet in alarm. Ryan was still waiting outside—if he knew I was in here surrounded by male entertainers, he’d probably lose his mind.

"Why so tense, beautiful? Sit down," one model cooed, boldly grabbing my hand. His eyes swept over me with practiced charm. "We get clients like you all the time. Husband not giving you enough attention? Here, you can tell this boy all about it."

I froze for a split second before yanking my hand away like I’d been electrocuted. "You’ve misunderstood. I’m not your client."

With a frown, I flung open the door and waved Bob in. "Watch Maya. Don’t let these guys do anything to her. I need to make a call."

Bob nodded, his eyes widening as he took in the scene—Maya surrounded by half-naked men, looking way too comfortable.

Maya was on a touchy-feely spree, caressing one guy’s cheek, tracing another’s jawline, then squeezing someone else’s abs with gleeful abandon.

"Fucking asshole," she slurred, eyes unfocused. "You didn’t want me, huh? Why are you all over me now?"

This was getting dangerous fast.

I stepped outside and called my brother, explaining the situation as quickly as possible.

"A bar? Why would you take a pregnant woman to a bar?" Ethan sounded completely confused.

"No time to explain. Maya’s ordered a bunch of male models and she’s completely wasted. I’m worried she’ll—"

"Male models?" Ethan cut me off, his voice suddenly sharp. "I’m on my way."

He hung up before I could say another word. I stared at my phone, caught between amusement and exasperation.

When I returned to the private room, Maya had collapsed into one model’s arms, her head lolling against his chest. My stomach clenched with worry.

"All of you, out. Now," I ordered, my voice leaving no room for argument.

I motioned Bob inside. "Get rid of them and settle the bill."

Bob nodded and efficiently herded the disappointed entertainers out the door.

Finally, silence fell over the room. Maya slumped against the couch, completely out of it. I sighed deeply, thanking whatever instinct had made me come along tonight. This could have ended so badly.

The door opened again, and Ryan appeared, looking annoyed.

"What’s going on in here?" he asked, eyeing Maya’s disheveled state.

"She’s drunk," I replied simply.

Ryan nodded. "Then let’s get her home. This place is too loud."

I shook my head. "Hold on. We need to wait."

"For what?" Ryan’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Before I could answer, the door burst open. Ethan rushed in, his sleeves rolled up haphazardly and his hair a mess. He’d clearly dropped everything to get here.

His eyes immediately found Maya sprawled across the couch, and his expression darkened.

"How did she get this drunk?" he demanded.

I shot him a glare. "Why do you think? What exactly did you say to her this afternoon?"

Ethan pressed his lips together, refusing to answer.

In her revealing outfit—tiny camisole and shorts that showed off way too much leg—Maya suddenly opened her eyes and gave Ethan a seductive smile.

"Heyyy, let’s keep drinking!" she giggled, clearly delirious.

Ethan’s jaw tightened as he shrugged off his jacket and moved toward her, draping it over her exposed shoulders.

I reached for him, pulling him down to me, needing to feel his weight, his heat. When he finally entered me, slowly and with exquisite control, I cried out, arching against him.

"God, I’ve missed this," I whispered, wrapping my legs around him.

Ryan’s pace was measured at first, his movements deliberate and gentle. But as our passion built, his restraint began to slip.

"Tell me if it’s too much," he panted against my ear.

"Don’t stop," I urged, digging my nails into his back.

Our bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, finding that familiar dance that had always been so right between us. Ryan’s hand slipped between us, his fingers finding exactly where I needed him most.

"Look at me," he commanded softly. "I want to see you."

I opened my eyes, meeting his intense gaze as waves of pleasure began to build inside me. The intimacy of that connection—seeing the raw emotion in his eyes—pushed me over the edge.

I cried out his name as ecstasy crashed through me, my body trembling beneath his. Ryan followed moments later, his face buried in my neck, my name a prayer on his lips.

Afterward, he gathered me against his chest, his heartbeat gradually slowing beneath my ear. His hand traced lazy patterns on my back as we lay tangled in the sheets.

"I’ve been thinking," he murmured into my hair.

"Hmm?" I was barely conscious, floating in blissful exhaustion.

"About what you said earlier. Some people need a push to realize what’s in their hearts." His voice grew softer. "I was one of those people, wasn’t I?"

I tilted my head to look up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his expression.

"We both were," I admitted, reaching up to trace his jawline. "But we’re here now. That’s what matters."

Ryan kissed my forehead, pulling me closer. "I’m never letting you go again. You know that, right?"