Chapter 126: First Kiss

Emerald’s POV

I tried to concentrate on the material in front of me, but my mind refused to cooperate.

Michael had already moved on as though nothing unusual had happened.

He was explaining the next part of the case study, pointing out the details I needed to pay attention to, while I was still thinking about everything that had happened before he opened the book again.

His shameless inspection of me. His hand against my stomach. His ridiculous comment about my chest.

And then that strange statement about the money being real.

I stared at the page without actually reading it.

"You have been looking at the same paragraph for nearly two minutes."

I lifted my eyes. Michael was watching me. So, I cleared my throat. "I am reading."

"You have not turned the page."

I looked down. He was right. I closed the book slightly and gave him a suspicious look. "You are distracting me."

His mouth curved into a smile. "I am sitting here teaching you."

"You know exactly what you are doing."

"Do I?" He asked.

"Yes."

He leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself.

I tried to return my attention to the material, but his voice came again, quieter this time.

"Are you still thinking about what I said earlier?"

My eyes immediately went to his. "No." The answer came too quickly.

His smile deepened. "I see."

I narrowed my eyes. "Do not start."

"I have not started anything." He shrugged.

"You are enjoying this."

"Very much."

I shook my head and looked back at the book. He let me have several seconds of peace before speaking again.

"You are remarkably easy to distract."

I closed my eyes briefly. "Michael, you are impossible."

"And yet you are still here."

That made me look at him again.

There was something different in his expression now. The teasing was still there, but beneath it was a seriousness I could not quite understand.

I remembered his earlier words.

I did not give you fake money.

The thought returned before I could stop it.

"You keep calling me your girlfriend as though the arrangement is real."

His expression changed slightly. "It is real."

"No. It is an arrangement," I reminded him.

"You accepted the money," he said. But then I made it clear that it does not change what we had agreed on.

He looked at me for a long moment. "Then tell me what you think we are."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. That seemed to be all the answer he needed.

His eyes remained on mine. "You cannot answer."

"Because you are deliberately confusing the issue."

"Perhaps."

I looked away, suddenly uncomfortable with how easily he could make me lose my composure.

He was quiet for a few seconds, then he said my name. "Emerald."

I looked back at him. There was no teasing in his voice now. He stood and came around the desk again.

My heart immediately began beating faster.

He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body. I could smell his familiar scent, clean and masculine, and something about being this close to him suddenly made the room feel smaller.

Michael watched, and for once, I could not read what he was thinking. Then he moved slightly closer.

I should have leaned back. I did not.

His hand softly moved to my face, and his touch was surprisingly gentle. Then he leaned in and pressed his soft lips to mine.

Everything inside me seemed to stop.

For one brief instant, I could not think. Then the sensation spread through me.

His lips were warm and firm against mine, and the softness of the kiss was completely different from the confidence with which he usually teased me.

There was no rush. He gave me enough time to pull away, but I didn’t.

In this moment, something dead inside me woke up.

It was not simply the surprise of being kissed; it was the feeling. I had not felt anything like it in a very long time.

The warmth that moved through my body seemed to reach places inside me that I had forgotten existed.

My heart began racing, and my breathing changed without my permission. Every nerve seemed suddenly more aware of him, of his hand against my face, of the closeness between us.

And then came the most unsettling part.

I wanted more.

The realisation startled me.

I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted the kiss to deepen. I wanted to feel closer to him than I had any business wanting.

It felt as though something had awakened all at once, stirring emotions and desires I had kept buried for a long time.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up, and for several seconds, I simply let myself experience it.

Michael withdrew slightly, his eyes meeting mine as I struggled to breathe normally.

He did not say anything. Neither did I. Then he kissed me again, and this time, I responded.

My fingers instinctively caught the front of his shirt as I leaned toward him.

The second kiss carried more warmth than the first, and the restraint I had been trying to maintain became increasingly difficult to remember.

My thoughts dissolved into sensation—his closeness, his warmth, the steady pressure of his lips against mine, the feeling that I had somehow been waiting for something like this without realising it.

When he finally pulled away, I stayed still, trying to recall how to breathe properly.

Michael looked entirely too composed. I stared at him, and he had the nerve to smile.

"You are very quiet," he whispered.

"You kissed me," I managed to say, still processing what had just happened.

In fact, my mind was screaming, asking me what we had just done.

Michael replied, "You allowed me to."

My cheeks burned. "That does not make it better."

"You did not seem to think it was a problem a moment ago."

I stared at him, embarrassed by how accurate he was. He smiled again, clearly pleased with himself.

Then something inside me snapped back into place. He had spent the entire morning teasing me. He had been shameless about it.

And now he was standing there looking entirely too satisfied with himself.

I leaned toward him and kissed him again before I could overthink it.

His surprise lasted only a second. This time, I deliberately caught his lower lip lightly between my teeth before pulling away.

Michael froze.

I immediately saw the surprise in his eyes. For once, I had caught him completely off guard.

Then I sat back and tried to look innocent. "What happened?"

His fingers touched his lower lip. "You bit me."

"You were teasing me," I defended.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but amusement quickly returned to his expression. "So that is how you fight back?"

"Maybe." I shrugged, acting tough.

He held my gaze for a while, then let out a soft laugh.

I smiled despite myself. But the problem was that my heart was still racing, and the warmth of his kiss had not disappeared.

And neither had the strange craving it had awakened in me.

I looked down at my notes, hoping they would somehow make sense again, but they did not.