Chapter 195: "I Like It Like This"

The painful admission slowly drained the light from Aren’s expression.

She still didn’t know everything about the discipline imposed within House Marchetti. But after spending enough time around Jordan and his siblings, she could begin to imagine the rigid control Eduardo had exerted over every aspect of their lives.

Still, she was an outsider.

This was a family, a House, a system that had existed long before she had entered this life.

No matter how much she cared about Jordan, she had no right to tell his father — a Don — how to run the household he had controlled for decades.

That helplessness deepened the sadness in her eyes.

Jordan noticed immediately, and the moment he did, regret flickered through him.

’Damn it. I did it again.’

He had wanted this to be their date. Something light. Something that belonged only to them.

Instead, he’d somehow managed to turn it into another conversation about family baggage, duty, and everything neither of them could change.

"Enough about me."

He drew her hand onto his lap and gave it a gentle tug.

"What about you? What are your dreams?"

Aren carefully put her smile back in place, needing only a moment to decide on her answer.

"I’ve already told you about it, actually. It’s the bakery."

Jordan’s brow shot upward.

"The bakery is your dream?"

Aren nodded enthusiastically, already brightening at the mere thought of it.

"I’ve noticed that sweets bring people together. They make people feel more relaxed, more open, and they’re so easy to share. Even the scent of a loaf of bread in the morning can make you feel like... like maybe the day ahead won’t be so difficult after all."

The way her face lit up simply from talking about her bakery stirred something unfamiliar inside Jordan.

It wasn’t merely that she wanted to own a business. She genuinely believed food could make people’s lives a little warmer, a little easier.

"Maybe..." the words slipped out before he could think them through, "...maybe we could have some baking sessions as dates, too. We could rent a kitchen somewhere and practice. I’ll teach you all the baking recipes you want."

Aren immediately turned toward him, surprise widening her eyes.

"You’d really teach me baking? But I already lost the bet."

Jordan couldn’t help laughing at how seriously she still regarded their ridiculous wager.

"The whole point was that we’d both win either way," he explained. "If I’m dating you, then I can always teach you how to bake. And if I lose the bet and end up teaching you baking instead..." a small smile tugged at his lips, "...I still get to spend time with you."

Aren’s mouth fell open.

She stared at him for several seconds as the logic finally clicked into place.

’Wait.’

’He planned this.’

’He actually made a bet where either outcome gives him exactly what he wanted.’

The realization left her staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and dawning suspicion.

This was a side of Jordan she hadn’t expected. Apparently, there was a rather sneaky strategist hiding underneath all that warm innocence.

"...I seriously need to be much more careful when I make bets with you next time."

Jordan laughed softly at the suspicious look she gave him. He could no longer resist the urge to hold her, and he shifted closer until his thigh brushed against hers.

"Yeah," he agreed. "You definitely should be more careful with me in the future."

There was a subtle shift in his expression as he said it.

Before Aren could fully process it, his hand found the small of her back and drew her gently toward him.

Aren needed very little encouragement this time. Both her hands rose to cup his face, and she leaned forward eagerly, meeting his lips in a tender kiss.

No matter how many times they’d kissed, that first touch still sent a shiver through Jordan.

’How does she keep doing that?’

He kissed her slowly at first, savoring the warmth of her mouth and the delicate pressure of her fingers against his face.

With every passing second, his hesitation faded. The kiss deepened naturally until his tongue slipped past her lips, seeking hers.

Soon enough, Aren felt the rhythm of the kiss change.

His breathing grew quicker. His body leaned more heavily toward hers, and the pressure of his hand against her back increased as each lingering pull of their lips became more intense.

"...Mmm."

A soft, uncertain sound escaped her.

"...Jordan?"

Jordan caught the hesitation immediately. He pulled back without question, concern replacing the heat in his expression.

"Mm, Ariana... I’m sorry."

He pressed a gentler kiss to the corner of her lips, giving her space to breathe.

"...It’s just... it feels so good to be with you."

The shy admission made Aren’s heart soften. For a moment, she simply looked at him and smiled.

"It feels good to be with you, too," she admitted before finding his lips again.

Her eager reassurance made him smile.

"Do you like the way I kiss you?"

"I like it a lot." She punctuated the answer with another soft kiss. "Why are you asking?"

Jordan’s confidence faltered.

"I just, um..."

He gave a nervous laugh, suddenly finding the question far more difficult to answer than he’d anticipated.

"I just feel nervous. You surely have more experience than I do. And I... um..."

He looked away for a moment, fighting through his embarrassment, then finally forced himself to admit it.

"...I haven’t kissed a girl before."

Aren pulled back just enough to look at him properly, her eyes widening in surprise.

"You haven’t kissed anyone before?"

Jordan immediately regretted admitting it.

A faint heat crept up his neck as he watched her expression, his mind already racing ahead to every possible interpretation.

What if she thought he was hopelessly inexperienced? What if she found it strange? And worse, what if she lost interest now that she knew how little experience he actually had?

"I... actually..." he hesitated, "...I actually haven’t dated anyone before."

Aren’s surprise only deepened.

"Why haven’t you?"

"It’s not like I’ve ever had much time for that," he admitted plainly. "Taking care of the compound, training, endless meetings... those things already consumed most of my time."

His hand rose to cup her face, his fingertips brushing tenderly along her cheek.

"...And it’s not like I’ve met anyone who made me feel this way before."

His voice softened.

"...Like the way you make me feel."

For a moment, Aren was completely stunned by how honest he sounded.

The sincerity in his eyes made her heart flutter so violently that she almost forgot what she wanted to say.

When she finally found her voice, it came out more flustered than ever.

"I... I... um," she stumbled over the words. "I couldn’t tell it was your first kiss at all."

Surprise flashed across Jordan’s features, quickly followed by unmistakable relief.

"Really?" he asked, a teasing note returning to his voice. "Should I take that as a compliment?"

"You certainly should," Aren admitted quietly. Her cheeks grew even warmer as she lowered her gaze. "...You’re a very good kisser."

Before he could say anything else, she was already leaning toward him again.

She couldn’t bear the thought of him continuing to look at her while she was this flustered, so hiding against his lips seemed much easier than meeting his eyes.

This time, it was Aren who deepened the kiss. Her small lips brushed eagerly against his in a series of soft, impatient kisses, each one growing a little bolder than the last.

Jordan felt every eager press of her lips.

With each one, another piece of his restraint seemed to slip away.

The hand that had been cradling her face slowly slipped downward, following the curve of her waist until his thumb began stroking lightly along her side.

Gradually, however, his fingers found themselves creeping beneath the lower edge of her bra.

Every time they did, Jordan hesitated.

The thin fabric of her shirt offered almost no barrier between his fingertips and the lace beneath it, yet somehow that tiny distinction felt enormous.

’...Should I ask her whether I could go up further?’

The thought occurred to him repeatedly. Yet every time he imagined actually saying the words, his courage abandoned him.

’No.’

’What if she thinks I’m being too forward?’

’What if I ruin this?’

So he would linger there for a heartbeat, then retreat a few inches lower, only to find his way upward again moments later.

Eventually, Aren became aware of the strange pattern — how his hand kept approaching the edge of her bra, hesitating, retreating, then slowly returning.

Unsure what he wanted, she placed her hand over his, deliberately guiding it against the fabric covering her breast.

The movement brought Jordan to an abrupt halt.

"...Ariana?"

His eyes widened as he stared at her, only to find her staring back at him with the same intensity.

"You... um..." she searched his expression, looking for some indication that she had guessed correctly, "...you want to touch me?"

Everything in Jordan’s body screamed the same answer. Yet even with her hand guiding his, concern remained lodged firmly in his chest.

"I... I want to."

His eyes darted cautiously toward the corner of the room.

"But... uh... there’re cameras."

Aren followed his gaze, then answered with complete calm.

"The angles only cover the sculpture. We’re all the way back here. We’re not in the frame."

Jordan stared at her, momentarily unable to believe she’d already considered all of that.

He’d been sitting here agonizing over those cameras, while she’d already inspected their field of view — and determined exactly where they could and couldn’t be seen.

The absurdity of the situation almost made him laugh. Yet the desire to touch her was stronger than his embarrassment.

Now that she’d given him permission — and he knew their privacy was secure — the last of his earlier restraint began to slip away.

His fingers pressed more firmly against her breast through the fabric, the soft lace beneath his fingertips sending another jolt of awareness through him.

"...Show me how to touch you properly."

Aren didn’t hesitate.

"Here."

Her fingers closed gently over his hand and guided it more firmly against the curve of her breast, showing him exactly how much pressure she wanted.

"Touch me like this."

She leaned forward, brushing another soft kiss across his lips.

"...I like it like this."