Chased by My Possessive Ex (Dylan) novel Chapter 18

Chapter 18

DYLAN

The way he looked at me instantly sent a shiver down my spine. I can feel the heat of his gaze. His hands that were holding both of my shoulders set my body on fire. I can see how his throat moved as he stared at my lips with hunger.

I heard him take a sharp breath before slowly putting some distance between us. I felt like a bucket of ice–cold water was poured above me. I cursed under my breath in embarrassment. I hate to admit it, but I was hoping he would kiss and ravish me.

I shook my head, clearing off those sinful thoughts playing in my head. I immediately wrapped my arms around my chest in my faint attempt to cover myself up.

Then, without another word, he stood up and turned his back on me like he was trying to put a wall between us. The muscles in his back tensed as if he was holding something back.

“Be careful next time,” he said, his voice cool and distant, so different from the heat I’d just seen burning in his eyes. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

Just like that, the air shifted. The fire between us, so thick you could almost touch it just seconds ago, was suddenly replaced with a cold breeze of restraint. He didn’t wait for a response–he simply walked out and pulled the door shut behind him.

I stared at the closed door, heart pounding in my chest. I should be grateful for the space, for the boundaries he was trying to set. But instead, all I could feel was the echo of his gaze on my skin and the strange ache of being left alone with thoughts that felt far more dangerous than anything he could’ve done.

I suddenly don’t feel like staying here much longer. I just took a quick shower and dry myself up before putting on my clothes. I didn’t even manage to dry my hair, as I wanted to get out of his place as soon as I could.

“Thank you for letting me use your shower,” I said as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom. “I’m heading out now. Thanks again for saving me last night.”

I found him in front of the stove holding a frying pan. He’s already wearing a white fitted shirt that emphasized his toned muscles. He looks totally different from the badass man who saved me last night. I can’t believe that I had the opportunity to see him in this state.

“Sit down. It’s almost done,” he ordered.

I’m not sure whether he heard what I just said or he was deliberately ignoring it. But what surprised me even more was when my body moved on its own, following his every word like a puppet following her master’s order.

I just found myself sitting on a bar stool in front of the countertop. I was watching his every move, and I can’t help but admire his perfect physique. I wonder how those muscles clenched while he was thrusting on top of

1. me.

Cut the crap, Dylan! I scolded myself as soon as I realized that I was fantasizing about the man in front of

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Chapter 18

1. me.

I held my breath when he turned around holding a plate with an omelette on it. He placed it in front of me, then handed me some utensils.

I was switching my eyes between him and the omelette, contemplating whether I should eat it or not. What if he put drugs in it? Worst, what if he put poison here?

He probably noticed my hesitation as I heard him chuckle before he say, “If you’re worried if 1 your food, don’t worry, I didn’t.”

How did he know what I was thinking? Is he a mind–reader?

put drugs in

“Besides, if I were planning anything against your will, I would have done it last night when you were out cold,” he added.

Yeah, that makes sense. But then I remember what he told me when I asked him if he did something to me.

“It’s because you said you’re no necromancer,” I replied.

He smirked, “Clever, girl.” He was staring at me with a meaningful gaze that sent shivers down my spine. “Eat up. I didn’t put anything in it. If I wanted to f*ck you, you’d be in my bed by now,” he ordered.

I’m not sure whether to feel relieved or offended. Does that mean he doesn’t find me attractive? That’s why he didn’t even dare to touch me.

Feeling pissed, I turned my attention to the food in front of me. A lot of things happened last night that I didn’t manage to eat properly. I can’t even remember when the last time I had a meal was.

I sliced a piece of the omelette and put it in my mouth. As soon as I tasted it, I couldn’t help but close my eyes and savor the flavor melting into my tongue. It must be the hunger, cause it taste as if it was the most delicious meal I ever tasted.

“Mmm… tuna omelette,” I said with a soft smile, my voice light and full of delight. “My favorite.”

“I know,” he said.

When I opened my eyes again, I was met with his, locked right on me. There was something about the way he looked at me, something that made the air between us hum with heat. My heart skipped a beat as I quickly licked my lips, suddenly self–conscious, thinking maybe there was a smudge or a crumb left behind.

But instead of looking away, his gaze darkened even more. There was a flicker of something raw and intense in his eyes–something I couldn’t name. He looked as if he was about to lunge at me and devour me at any minute.

I shifted in my seat, unsure whether it was the food or him making me feel so warm. But one thing was clear: I wasn’t just hungry for breakfast anymore.

I cleared my throat, ignoring the heat that started crawling into my nerves. “What?” I said, checking if I heard him correctly. There’s no way he said that he knows tuna omelette was my favorite.

10:26 Thu, Dec 25

Chapter 18

“Eat up.

I have a few emails I need to attend to,” he said, completely changing the topic.

“You’re not going to eat?” I asked curiously.

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“No. I don’t eat breakfast,” he replied before he walked towards the corner of his pad where his office table was located.

I suddenly felt disappointed. Somehow, this scenario reminds me of how my life was with Beckett. I can’t remember how many times I have spent hours preparing for a meal that only I will be able to eat because Beckett was too busy with work. It was later in our marriage that I saw how Beckett was trying to work things out. But just when things were getting better, Sarah came to ruin everything.

The tuna omelette that used to be flavorful suddenly turned bland. I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn’t realize I’d only been playing with my food instead of eating it.

“Is everything alright?”

I was startled when I heard his deep, baritone voice. I quickly lifted my head and found him in front of me, leaning against the countertop that separates us. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice him coming back.

“I’m

sorry, what?”

“You’re playing with your food instead of eating,” he said, looking at my plate.

“Oh, my apologies! I was just thinking of something,” I said before taking a deep breath. There’s something about him that makes me want to open up despite us being practically strangers to each other. “I was used to eating alone at home. But not because I was used to, doesn’t mean I like eating alone.”

He remained silent. He glanced at me, then back at the food laid out in front of me. Without a word, he walked across the room and grabbed a plate for himself. He poured himself another cup of coffee and grabbed a slice of bread, peanut butter, and jelly.

I blinked, momentarily surprised.

He met my eyes as he dug into his food. “Go on. Eat up.”

The silence between us shifted. It wasn’t awkward anymore. It was comfortable.

I watched him chew, the quiet strength in his presence more reassuring than words. He was only eating bread while I was eating a freshly prepared meal. That’s when I decided to offer him the food he made for me.

“The omelette was delicious. You should have some,” I offered, gesturing toward the plate between us.

There was already a small piece of it speared on my fork–meant for me, not him. I smiled faintly, about to slide the bite into my mouth and then cut him a fresh piece. But just as the fork neared my lips, his hand suddenly reached across the narrow space between us and gently wrapped around my wrist.

My breath hitched.

With deliberate slowness, he guided my hand toward him instead. And before I could even react, he leaned in

10:26 Thu, Dec 25

Chapter 18

and slipped the fork into his mouth–his eyes locked onto mine the entire time.

My heart did something strange then. It skipped. Stumbled. Tripped all over itself.

I could only stare as his lips closed around the metal prongs that had just touched my own mouth.

His tongue flicked just slightly as he drew the bite of omelette from the fork. Then he pulled back, chewing casually, like he hadn’t just short–circuited every nerve in my body.

I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how dry my throat had become.

“Yeah,” he said, the corners of his mouth curling into a knowing smirk. “It’s delicious.”

That glint in his eyes? Mischievous. Teasing. Dangerous in a way that made my skin tingle.

He knew exactly what he’d done.

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He’d turned an innocent offer into something that felt far too much like an indirect kiss. And he was enjoying the effect it had on me.

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