Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 556

Chapter 556

Gwen’s POV

He resisted almost the entire night.

Every time my hands wandered a little farther. Every time my lips found the exposed skin of his neck. Every time I pressed my body more firmly against his, Nick found a way to pull back. To create distance. To murmur excuses about needing to add more wood to the fire or check if the door was properly closed.

But I saw it.

I saw it in the way his breathing faltered. In the way his eyes darkened. In the way his hands trembled slightly when he touched me before forcing himself to stop.

He wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

to be past ten in the morning when Nick finally stood and walked to the door. He opened it just a

letting in a blast of icy air. Then he shut it quickly and turned back to me.

still bad,” he said, his voice rough with exhaustion and something else. “We still can’t walk out. The now’s still falling. The wind is too strong.”

He went back to the fireplace, adding more wood, stirring the embers.

“Eventually, someone will come looking for us,” he went on, more to himself than to me. “My mom will notice we didn’t come back. She’ll send someone. Or the town will organize a rescue team once the

storm eases.”

“I don’t mind,” I said, watching him through the dancing flames.

He let out a low, humorless laugh.

“You don’t mind being stuck here?”

“I don’t mind being stuck here with you.”

I saw his shoulders tense. His hands froze halfway through adjusting the logs.

I patted the rug beside me.

“Come on. Let’s sleep a little more. It’s still cold, and you barely rested.”

“Gwen…”

“Please,” I said softly. “I just want to stay close. Stay warm.’

He hesitated, that familiar internal battle crossing his face again. But eventually, he gave in and lay down beside me. I pulled the blanket over both of us and curled against his chest.

For a few minutes, we stayed like that.

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Quiet.

Just listening to the crackle of the fire and the distant howl of the storm outside.

Then my hands started moving again.

This time, more deliberately. More boldly.

I traced the line of his jaw with my fingers. Slid down his neck, feeling his pulse quicken beneath my palm. My hand slipped under his shirt, finding warm skin and the tense muscles of his stomach.

I heard his breathing turn uneven.

I turned fully toward him, and this time, there was no hesitation.

I pressed my lips to his in a kiss that was anything but innocent or gentle.

It was hunger.

as need.

time, Nick kissed me back.

nds tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. His mouth opened against mine, his tongue meeting e in a way that set my entire body on fire.

We moved together, rolling on the rug until he was partly over me, his delicious weight pinning me to the floor. His hands roamed now, sliding down my body, tracing my curves, gripping my hips.

My leg hooked around his, pulling him closer, desperate to erase whatever little space still remained between us.

His lips left my mouth and moved downward. Along my neck. Over my collarbone, exposed above the neckline of my shirt. Every touch left a trail of fire, making me arch into him.

My hands found the hem of his shirt and tugged it up. He pulled back just enough to let me remove it, tossing it aside.

God, he was beautiful.

All defined muscle. Skin glowing gold in the firelight. Green eyes darkened with desire.

My hands roamed freely now. Across his chest, his shoulders, his back. Feeling every muscle tense beneath my touch.

Nick kissed me again, more urgently this time, his hands finding the hem of my own shirt. I lifted my arms, helping him pull it over my head and drop it onto the floor beside his.

The cold hit me for a second.

Then his body heat surrounded me again.

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Skin against skin. Heart against heart.

But I wanted more.

I pressed lightly against his shoulder, making him roll onto his back. He went easily, lying there and watching me with eyes that looked like they were devouring me.

I straddled him, feeling the hard proof of his desire pressing against me through the layers of clothing we still had on. I leaned down and kissed him again, slower this time, savoring it, while my hands traced a path from his chest to his stomach, lower and lower.

My fingers reached the waistband of his pants.

I started to unbutton them, my lips following my hands, traveling down his chest, over his defined abs, kissing every inch of skin I uncovered.

And then, suddenly, I felt his hands on my shoulders.

He pushed me away gently, but firmly.

He jumped to his feet so fast he almost stumbled, already grabbing his shirt from the floor and pulling it

with jerky, frantic movements.

“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice rough, desperate.

“Nick…” I started, still on the floor, confused, frustrated, feeling the cold rush back now that his warmth

was gone.

He pulled on his coat too, his hands shaking as he zipped it up.

I stood, grabbed my own shirt from the ground, and slipped it on quickly before facing him.

“Look,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though every nerve in my body was screaming in frustration. “Let’s stop pretending we’re waiting for marriage or something. I want this. You want this. Nick, it’s obvious. So why-”

“But I can’t!” he practically shouted, running his hands through his hair so hard it looked like he might rip

it out.

“Why?” I demanded, stepping toward him. “Give me one reason. One real reason why we can’t-”

“Because I’m not your fiancé, Gwen!” The words burst out of him, full of anger, frustration, and desperation all tangled together. “I didn’t even know you before you lost your memory!”

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