Love in the Lines of Duty (Profession Series #1)

Chapter 11

Warning⚠️: 🔞

The cool evening breeze brushed against my skin as I stepped onto the balcony, seeking solace in the quiet darkness. My white sleep dress billowed slightly around my legs, and I relished the feeling of my hair falling freely over my shoulders, untamed and unburdened. The soft slippers on my feet made sound as I approached the railing, craving a moment alone.

But then I saw him. Jiro stood there, still in the same black t-shirt and grey pants from earlier, the faint glow of his cigarette casting a soft light on his face. He noticed me immediately, quickly stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray with a sense of urgency.

A wave of conflicting emotions surged through me. Anger rose to the surface, a reminder of why I wanted to avoid him. I turned sharply, my heart pounding, and began to retreat back inside. I couldn't face him right now, not with everything swirling inside me.

But Jiro was faster. In a few swift strides, he was behind me, his hand gently but firmly grasping my wrist.

"Is anything wrong, Elise? Why are you avoiding me?" he asked, his voice full of concern that cut through the darkness.

I kept my gaze fixed on the ground, my lips pressed tightly together. His touch was warm and familiar, but it only made my chest tighten with the emotions I couldn't voice. The silence between us grew heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

I wanted to tell him everything, to let the torrent of anger and confusion spill out. But I couldn't. Not yet. Instead, I stood there, caught between the desire to pull away and the urge to lean into his touch, the night air wrapping us in its quiet embrace.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. I gently pulled my wrist from Jiro's grasp, crossing my arms over my chest as if that could protect me from the intensity of his gaze. The moonlight bathed the balcony in a soft, silvery glow, highlighting every tense line on my face.

"I'm not avoiding you," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. "Why would I be?"

But even as the words left my mouth, I knew they rang hollow. Jiro's frown deepened, his eyes boring into mine, searching for the truth I was desperately trying to hide. He stepped closer, the concern in his voice making it nearly impossible to keep my defenses intact.

"Elise, it's obvious something is wrong. Please, talk to me."

My heart raced, pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. His sincerity cut through my resolve, making it harder to maintain the walls I had hastily erected. I averted my gaze, biting my lip to keep from saying something I'd regret.

I felt trapped, torn between the urge to let out all the frustration and hurt and the fear of showing vulnerability. The weight of his words pressed down on me, and I struggled to keep my composure. Why did he have to care so much? Why couldn't he just leave me alone?

I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. "It's nothing, Jiro. I'm just... tired."

But even as I said it, I knew he didn't believe me. And I couldn't help but wonder how much longer I could keep pretending everything was fine.

Jiro's eyes were fixed on me, his gaze piercing through the silence.

"Are you that... tired?" he asked slowly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I watched his face, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. His eyes held a depth of emotion I couldn't quite grasp, a mix of concern and something else, something more intense. My heart pounded in my chest, and for a moment, I couldn't find my voice.

I nodded slowly, eager to retreat back to my room and escape this confusing whirlwind of emotions. But as I turned to leave, I felt his eyes travel from my dress back to my face, his gaze lingering in a way that made my breath catch.

Without warning, he closed the distance between us, capturing my lips in a kiss that was slow but intense. His touch was both gentle and commanding, sending a shiver down my spine.

Naamoy ko ang mint galing sa kanyang hininga, that was the smell of his cigarette? A mint? Mamahalin ata.

I felt my resolve melt away as his arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly off the ground.

"J-jiro" I whispered, looking around.

Baka may makakita sa atin! I wanted to tell him that, pero I'm so weak to speak right now because of his kisses. Bakit ganito ang epekto niya sa akin? Samantalang wala akong nararamdaman sa naging ex ko. Bakit ganito!

In a daze, I clung to him as he carried me, my mind racing with confusion and a rush of emotions I couldn't name. Before I knew it, we were in his room, the door closing behind us with a quiet click. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us in a bubble of tension and unspoken words.

I was confused, my mind struggling to catch up with the reality of the situation. But in Jiro's arms, I felt a strange mix of fear and longing, a desire to understand what lay behind his intense gaze and passionate kiss.

Jiro's kiss was all-consuming, his lips moving against mine with a passion that made my head spin. We were inside his room now, the air conditioner humming softly in the background. The cold air was a stark contrast to the warmth that flooded through me, a heat that seemed to radiate from every touch of his lips and every press of his body against mine.

He carried me to the bed, his movements fluid and sure. Gently, he laid me down, his eyes never leaving mine. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls, but all I could see was him. The moment stretched, time seeming to slow as he straightened up, pulling off his shirt in one smooth motion.

My breath hitched at the sight of him. His abs, broad shoulders, and defined biceps were all illuminated in the soft light, a testament to his strength and the intensity of his presence. He didn't give me time to think or react; he was back, his lips on mine again, more insistent this time.

"You wanted to rest?" he whispered against my lips, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "You can rest tomorrow, baby."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, not from the cold, but from the raw intensity in his voice. His hands moved with a deliberate slowness, tracing the contours of my body as he continued to kiss me, each touch igniting a fire that burned away any lingering doubts or confusion.

The cold air of the room was nothing compared to the warmth that spread through me, fueled by his touch and the depth of his kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just Jiro, his touch, and the overwhelming heat that seemed to engulf us both.