Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You-Chapter 149: Broom Closet

Josh

The kiss explodes between us, weeks of tension igniting like a match to gasoline. My hands find her waist as her fingers twist in my hair, pulling me closer. The hallway suddenly feels too exposed, too public.

I break away just long enough to spot a utility door a few feet down. Without thinking, I sweep her up, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. She gasps against my mouth, surprised but not protesting as I carry her toward the door.

"Josh, what are you—"

I silence her with another kiss, fumbling behind me for the doorknob. It gives way, and we stumble into darkness—a cramped janitor’s closet filled with the scent of cleaning supplies and dust.

I kick the door shut behind us, setting Hailey down but keeping her pressed against me. In the dim light filtering through the crack beneath the door, I can just make out her face—flushed, eyes wide, lips parted.

"I’ve wanted to do this all day," I whisper, my voice rough with need.

She laughs softly, breathlessly. "In a broom closet?"

"Anywhere," I correct her, my hands sliding up her back. "As long as it’s with you."

Her laughter fades as she pulls me down for another kiss, deeper this time, hungrier. I press her against the wall, careful not to knock over the mops and buckets surrounding us. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I support her weight easily, losing myself in the taste of her.

"I want you," she breathes against my ear. "Right here."

The words send heat surging through me. "Are you sure?"

In response, she tugs at my shirt, her fingers working the buttons with surprising dexterity given our tight quarters. I help her, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor.

"Someone could come in," I warn, even as my hands find the hem of her blouse.

"Then we better be quick," she says with a wicked smile I can feel more than see in the darkness.

I lift her higher, her back against the wall, and kiss a path down her neck. She arches into me, her hands everywhere—my shoulders, my chest, my hair. Each touch feels like fire, burning away the memory of Riley’s unwanted kiss, replacing it with something real, something ours.

A mop clatters to the floor beside us, and we freeze, then dissolve into muffled laughter.

"Maybe this wasn’t my best idea," I admit, steadying her.

"It’s perfect," she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

I kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the moment. My hand slips under her blouse, tracing the warm skin of her waist, her ribs, higher still.

A sudden knock on the door jolts us apart.

"Occupied!" I call out.

Hailey’s face is bright red and she looks like she wants to melt into the floor.

"Sorry!" comes a muffled voice from the other side of the door. Footsteps retreat down the hallway.

We stand frozen for a moment, hearts pounding, before dissolving into silent laughter. Hailey buries her face against my chest, her shoulders shaking.

"Oh my god," she whispers. "We almost got caught."

"Almost," I agree, stroking her hair. "But we didn’t."

She pulls back to look at me, eyes sparkling with mischief and embarrassment. "We should probably get out of here before someone else needs actual cleaning supplies."

I shake my head. "Oh no. I can’t wait that long."

I capture her lips again, my hands finding her thighs, lifting her back against the wall. She gasps into my mouth as I press against her, hard and ready.

"I need you," I whisper against her neck, feeling her pulse racing beneath my lips.

"Then take me," she breathes, her fingers fumbling with my belt.

I help her, shifting just enough to free myself while she works her jeans down her hips. The closet is too dark to see much, but I can feel everything—the heat of her skin, the trembling in her thighs as I lift her higher.

She wraps her legs around my waist, and I enter her in one smooth thrust. We both gasp, freezing for a moment at the sensation.

"Oh god," she whispers, her nails digging into my shoulders.

I start to move, slow at first, then faster as her breathing quickens. The wall creaks slightly with each thrust, and somewhere in the back of my mind I worry about the noise, but I can’t stop. Won’t stop.

Her head falls back against the wall, exposing her throat. I kiss the delicate skin there, tasting salt and sweetness as she tightens around me.

"Josh," she moans, the sound sending electricity down my spine.

I capture the sound with my mouth, kissing her deeply as I drive into her harder, faster. The closet fills with the sound of our breathing, harsh and desperate.

She comes apart in my arms, her body tensing, then shuddering as waves of pleasure wash over her. I follow moments later, burying my face in her neck to muffle my groan.

For several heartbeats, we stay like that, wrapped around each other, breathing hard, bodies still joined.

"Well," she finally whispers, a hint of laughter in her voice, "that was one way to end a photoshoot."

I chuckle against her skin, carefully lowering her until her feet touch the ground. "Sorry about the location. Next time, I promise it’ll be somewhere with actual space. And light."

"I don’t know," she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice as she adjusts her clothing. "There’s something to be said for spontaneity."

I find my shirt on the floor, shaking it out before putting it back on. "Spontaneity in a janitor’s closet. Very glamorous."

"Hey, I’m not complaining." She reaches up to fix my collar, her touch lingering. "But maybe next time we could try a bed? Or at least somewhere without mops?"

I laugh, pulling her close for one more kiss. "Deal."

She sighs against my lips, then pulls back. "We should probably get out of here before someone calls security."

"Right." I reach for the door handle, then pause. "Then again, Marcus owns this studio and I am sure he has done the deed everywhere. I mean, you caught the man in odd places twice now."

Hailey winces. "Ugh, don’t remind me. I am still trying to erase that memory."

I crack the door open and peek into the hallway. Empty. Thank God. I glance back at Hailey, who’s smoothing her blouse and trying to look like she didn’t just have closet sex five minutes ago.

"Coast is clear," I say, stepping out and offering her my hand like we’re sneaking out of a crime scene. She rolls her eyes but takes it, and we tiptoe down the hall like a couple of teenagers who broke curfew.

As soon as we round the corner and step into the open area of the studio, it hits us how normal everything looks—crew members packing up lights, chatting about weekend plans, someone arguing with the coffee machine. The absurd contrast makes me grin.

Hailey nudges me with her elbow. "You’re way too proud of yourself right now."

"I just fulfilled a lifelong fantasy of janitor-closet passion," I whisper back. "Give me a moment."

She laughs, cheeks flushed but eyes bright. "You’re ridiculous."

"And yet, you climbed me like a tree," I tease.

Her face turns red instantly. "You’re never letting me live that down, are you?"

"Not a chance."

We make our way toward the back exit, trying to keep a low profile. But of course, Rebecca spots us.

She squints. "Hey. Where did you two disappear to?"

Hailey immediately goes into panic mode, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and mumbling something about camera batteries.

I, on the other hand, shrug. "Oh, just... hashing out creative differences."

Rebecca stares at us for a second, then snorts. "Right. Next time, maybe pick a place that doesn’t smell like bleach and despair."

Hailey groans into her hands.

Rebecca just shakes her head, smirking. "You two are ridiculous. But cute. I am already planning your wedding in my head."

Hailey makes a choking sound and I just smile.

"Ah, I was looking for you."

We all turn at the same time and find Marcus standing right there. All serious and imposing.

"Marcus," I say.

His gaze flicks between me and Hailey, narrowing slightly. She stiffens beside me.

"Party at my house tonight," Marcus says, keeping his eyes on Hailey. "To celebrate the end of the project. I expect you both to be there."

"Wouldn’t miss it," I say carefully.

"Good." He looks at Hailey again, who manages a polite smile even though I can feel the tension in her fingers as she clutches my hand. "Dress nice," he adds.

Rebecca clears her throat.

Marcus’s head snaps toward her and I see a flicker of irritation in his eyes. Come to think of it, Rebecca never told me what exactly happened between him and her at his office.

"What about me?" she says cheerfully.

"You..." he pauses dramatically. "Do not work at the Luxe magazine. Therefore, not invited."

Rebecca’s smile doesn’t falter. "That’s a shame. I was looking forward to seeing your mansion."

"We are not going if Rebecca isn’t invited," Hailey interjects.

Marcus studies her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Fine. She can come too."

"How generous," Rebecca says, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "I’ll be sure to dress appropriately."

Marcus’s jaw tightens slightly before he turns back to us. "Eight o’clock. Don’t be late." He walks away without another word, his expensive shoes clicking against the polished floor.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Rebecca lets out a low whistle. "Well, this should be interesting."

"What exactly happened between you two?" I ask, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.

Rebecca grins, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Let’s just say I may have kissed him in his office."

"You what?" Hailey and I exclaim in unison.

"Relax," Rebecca says, waving her hand dismissively. "It was all part of my master plan."

Hailey stares at her, mouth agape. "You really are going to seduce Marcus Winters?"

"He kissed me back," Rebecca says with a smug smile. "Then he tried to act all high and mighty, saying I wasn’t his type. But his body definitely disagreed."

I make a gagging sound. "I did not need that mental image."

"Sorry," Rebecca says, not looking sorry at all. "The point is, I’ve got him off-balance. He doesn’t know what to make of me."

"That makes two of us," I mutter.

Rebecca links her arm through Hailey’s. "Come on, let’s go shopping. If we are going to a party at Marcus Winters’ mansion, we need to look fabulous."

Hailey glances at me, a question in her eyes. I nod, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Go ahead. I need to grab my things anyway."

"Meet you at home?" she asks.

"Home," I repeat, loving the way the word sounds. "Yeah, I’ll see you there."

Rebecca practically drags Hailey toward the exit, already chattering about dresses and shoes. I watch them go, a smile tugging at my lips despite the unease settling in my stomach.

A party at Marcus’s house. What could possibly go wrong?