The doorknob rattled once. Twice.
"Harley?" Her brother's voice filtered through the wood. "You up here?"
Her stomach dropped. Panic surged hot through her veins. Ethan's grip on her hips tightened, pulling her back against him, his breath fierce in her ear.
"Don't answer."
Her pulse pounded. "He's right there—Ethan—"
"Then let him wonder." His hand came down again—smack—the sharp crack ricocheting through the room. Her cry followed it, strangled and helpless.
"Harley?" Her brother knocked now, harder. "You okay?"
She clutched the desk with trembling fingers, trying to hold back the sounds breaking from her throat. But Ethan bent low, his lips dragging across her shoulder, her neck, his voice low and cruel.
"You were so brave downstairs. Letting him sit next to you. Laughing at his jokes. You wanted me to see that, didn't you? You wanted me to break."
Her breath hitched, half a sob, half a moan. "I wanted you to feel something."
"Oh, I feel it." He kissed her again, fierce, stealing the words from her lips. When he pulled back, his eyes burned into hers. "But so do you."
Another sharp spank. Another cry that filled the air, louder this time—too loud.
Her brother's voice sharpened outside the door. "Harley? I'm coming in—"
Panic seized her chest. "Ethan, stop—please—"
But Ethan's mouth covered hers, swallowing her plea, kissing her so hard it almost hurt. His hands roamed rough, greedy, claiming every inch of her body as if he needed to leave his mark where Jake might have touched.
"You think you can make me jealous?" His voice was a growl against her lips. "You think anyone else could hear you like this? Make you sound like this?"
Her nails dug into his shirt, torn between fury and the ache clawing through her. "You're insane—"
"Say it again." His hand smacked her once more, and her body betrayed her, arching into him with a broken moan.
From the bathroom, Jake's muffled voice cracked. "What the hell are you doing to her?!"
Ethan's smirk was wicked. He turned Harley's face toward the door, his lips grazing her ear. "Louder, Harley. Let him hear."
Her cheeks flamed. Her throat burned. But the ache inside her pulsed hotter, forcing a sound out she couldn't swallow back—a desperate moan that shook the walls.
Her brother cursed softly outside. "Jesus, are you with someone in there?" The handle rattled harder.
"Answer him," Ethan hissed, spanking her again. "Tell him you're fine."
Her knees wobbled. Her breath broke. "I—"
But Ethan's mouth crashed down on hers before she could finish, his kiss messy, furious, drenched in hunger. His hands gripped her tighter, dragging another cry from her throat that left no doubt what was happening.
The footsteps outside halted. Silence.
Harley's heart pounded like a drum.
Then—the creak of retreating steps. Her brother muttered something under his breath and headed back downstairs.
Her knees nearly buckled in relief. "Oh my God…"
But Ethan wasn't done. His hand slid up her side, cupping her jaw, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"You'll never pull something like that again." His voice was rough, dark, each word punctuated with another punishing kiss. "No other guy gets to sit beside you. No other guy gets your smile. You think you can test me? You think you can tempt me into losing control?"
Her lips trembled. "You already did."
The words hit him like a strike. His laugh was ragged, bitter, his forehead dropping to hers. "You're going to be the end of me."
"You deserve it," she whispered, even as her body leaned closer, betraying her every thought. "You deserve to know how it feels."
He kissed her again—slower this time, but no less wild, no less dangerous. His hand threaded into her hair, tugging just enough to make her gasp.
And from the bathroom, Jake's faint, horrified whisper drifted through the door. "I can hear everything…"
Harley's eyes flew wide, panic crashing back over her. "Ethan—we have to stop—"
But Ethan only kissed her harder, swallowing the protest, his hand sliding lower, spanking her once more just to draw out a cry. "No," he growled. "We finish what we started."
Her moan echoed, reckless, impossible to contain.
And that was the moment the hallway creaked again.
This time, it wasn't her brother.
"Hello?" Grandpa's voice, soft and puzzled, floated closer.
Harley froze. Ethan went still.
"Thought I heard—" Grandpa's hand brushed the doorknob. "Something. Like a cat? Or crying?"
Harley's heart stopped.
Ethan cursed under his breath, finally releasing her, finally stepping back, raking a hand through his hair like a man dragged to the edge of disaster.
"Grandpa—!" Harley's voice shot higher than she meant. "It's—nothing, I'm fine! Just—dropped something."
"Ah." The old man's tone was doubtful, but distant. "Funny, I thought—" A pause. "Well. Never mind. My mind plays tricks."
His shuffling steps retreated, slow, uneven.
Harley sagged against the desk, shaking, her skin still hot, still tingling.
Ethan's chest heaved, his eyes locked on her with something rawer than anger now. "That's twice tonight. Twice we almost—" He cut himself off, jaw tightening.
From the bathroom, Jake whispered again, stunned and shaky. "What the hell was that?"
The sound snapped Harley's head around, the reality of the situation slamming into her. Her face burned hotter than ever. "Oh my God—"
Ethan's hand shot out, cupping her chin, dragging her gaze back to him. His eyes were fierce, unwavering. "Let him hear. Let anyone hear. I don't care. You're mine."
Her chest rose and fell in ragged bursts. Fury battled with the ache clawing inside her. Every nerve screamed danger, exposure, doom.
And still—her lips parted. Her body leaned toward him again.
Because no matter how forbidden it was, no matter how close they'd come to ruin, she couldn't stop.
She couldn't stop wanting him.
---
Second Half: Suspicion
Downstairs, the party noise resumed, but thinner now, tension running under it like a crack in glass. Harley's brother kept throwing glances toward the stairs, suspicion darkening his features.
"You hear that earlier?" he muttered to one of his friends.
"Hear what?"
"Upstairs. Sounded like—" He cut himself off, scowling. "Never mind."
But the thought festered. He knew his best friend had disappeared. He knew Harley had too.
And in the living room, Grandpa sat in his chair, shaking his head slowly.
"I saw something," he muttered to himself. "Something I shouldn't have." Then he frowned, confused. "Or maybe I dreamed it. Can't tell anymore."
He chuckled softly, almost fondly. "But if I did see it… Lord help them."
No one heard him. The music swelled again, laughter rising.
But the danger hadn't passed.
Not by a long shot.
Jake's fists pounded against the bathroom door again, the hollow thuds rattling through the room like a countdown.
"Harley! Don't let him do this—open the door!" His voice cracked with desperation, anger, disbelief.
Harley's pulse was already racing, but it shot into her throat when Ethan pulled something small and sleek from his pocket. A faint hum filled the air the second his thumb pressed a button.
Her stomach dropped. "You didn't—"
"Oh, I did." His grin was wicked, eyes glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, backing her against the desk with ease. "You wanted to make me jealous, play with fire in front of everyone. This—" he raised the toy just enough for her to see "—is your final punishment."
Her breath caught. "Ethan, not here—"
"Exactly here." His voice dipped low, dangerous but playful, the sound brushing across her skin. "You like to test me? Now you'll learn how far I'll go."
She shook her head, but the wall pressed against her back left nowhere to retreat. The vibration in his hand was steady, merciless. Her body tensed, already betraying her with heat before he even touched her.
Jake hammered the door again. "Harley, say something!"
Ethan smirked, pressing a finger to her lips before she could answer. "Shh. Let him listen."
Her protest melted into a muffled gasp when his hand slipped lower, sliding the toy exactly where she dreaded—and wanted—it most. The vibration sank deep, stealing the strength from her knees.
Her eyes flew wide, a breathless sound tearing from her throat.
"That," Ethan murmured, brushing his mouth near her ear, "is the sound of you realizing you're mine."
She shoved weakly at his chest. "Ethan—stop—" but her voice broke, the word tangled with a moan.
"Stop?" He tilted his head, amused. "Because you don't want it? Or because you don't want them to hear?"
The toy pulsed harder against her, and Harley's body arched before she could stop it. A cry slipped past her lips, louder than she meant.
"Harley!" Jake's voice was frantic now. "I swear, I'm telling everyone!"
Ethan laughed under his breath, the sound dark and satisfied. "Let him. He can hear what belongs to me."
Her brother's voice suddenly cut in from the hallway, sharp and suspicious. "Why's this door locked? Harley? Ethan?"
Panic ripped through her chest. She tried to twist away, but Ethan only pressed the humming toy firmer, his other hand clamping gently over her mouth. His eyes locked on hers, daring, smirking.
"Stereo's busted," Ethan called, casual as ever. "Making a ton of noise—we're fixing it."
"Stereo?" her brother repeated, voice dripping with doubt.
"Yeah," Ethan said smoothly, lips brushing her cheek as her muffled moans vibrated against his palm. "Unless you wanna come in and hear it yourself."
A pause. Footsteps. Then a muttered curse as her brother retreated.
Harley sagged against him, trembling, breath hot against his hand. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes—not from pain, but from the unbearable mix of shame, thrill, and raw need coursing through her.
"You're insane," she whispered hoarsely when he finally uncovered her mouth.
"And you love me for it." His grin was merciless, but his voice softened just enough to sting. "This is your lesson, Harley. Final punishment. You don't get to toy with me without consequences."
Before she could answer, the closet door creaked open.
Both froze.
Grandpa shuffled out, blinking at the scene—Ethan pinning Harley against the desk, her hair wild, her cheeks flushed scarlet. He squinted at the small device in Ethan's hand, humming faintly.
"Well, ain't that a funny-looking remote," he muttered, scratching his head. "Or maybe I'm in the wrong house."
"Grandpa—" Harley stammered, mortified.
But he only chuckled, shuffling past them. "Don't mind me. Can't remember what I was looking for anyway." He wandered into the hall, humming off-key.
The door clicked shut behind him, and Harley buried her face in her hands. "We're dead. We're so dead."
Ethan tilted her chin up, eyes blazing. "He won't remember."
But before she could argue, a faint ping broke the silence. The glow of a phone screen flickered under the bathroom door.
Jake's voice was colder now, trembling with fury. "I've got proof. Every sound. Every word. You're not hiding this anymore."
The toy went silent in Ethan's hand, but the danger had only just begun.
---