"Bleghhh!"
Elise leaned out the window and vomited just as Dietrich was about to close the distance between them, ready to press his lips to hers.
He froze, stunned, as she slumped back into the seat, her face pale and exhausted. A wave of raw frustration and shame crashed over him, making his hands tremble. He tore his gaze away from her defenseless form, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to grasp reality.
What the hell was I about to do!? Guilt hit him like a sledgehammer, his heart pounding with the weight of it. Mom would be so ashamed of me.
Elise's mom wasn't just a stepmother to Dietrich. She had saved him, rescued him from a life of darkness and neglect. The thought of betraying that trust tightened his chest, making it hard to breathe.
He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white as his whole body tensed with the effort to push back his own feelings. What was I even thinking? The image of his near-kiss with Elise replayed in his mind, each time more horrifying. This is beyond wrong. How did I let myself get so close to doing something so awful?
He glanced over at Elise again, her vulnerability striking a deep chord within him. Elise is drunk, out of her mind, and I was about to take advantage of her. A stab of self-loathing cut through him. Who does that?
Dietrich's thoughts spun wildly, a storm of regret and disgust. Mom trusted me to get her home safe, not to take advantage of her trust. He massaged his temples, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a physical force.
His gaze settled on Elise's soft, uneven breathing. She deserves so much more. She's always been the one to see the best in everyone, even me. And now I'm the one threatening that innocent little faith.
Dietrich leaned back, feeling the car key beneath his fingers as if it were a lifeline he desperately needed. I thought leaving would make these feelings fade, but now I'm just a mess. F**k! I somehow even became a stalker. Just f**king great! How the hell did it come to this!? The guilt was a suffocating cloud around him. What if she knew what I felt? Would she ever look at me the same way again? What am I supposed to do now?
Dietrich's hand shook as he twisted the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life with a ferocity that matched the storm inside him. Without another glance at Elise, he pulled the car back onto the road, his foot pressing hard on the accelerator. The car surged forward, the world outside blurring into a stream of lights and shadows as he sped through the quiet streets.
I need to get her home. That's all that matters right now, he told himself, though the tightness in his chest and the nausea in his gut suggested otherwise. His mind was a chaotic mix of guilt, anger, and self-reproach, each thought more damning than the last.
The city lights flickered by in a haze, his focus torn between the road and the memories of what almost happened. Every glance at Elise, slumped in the passenger seat, sent another wave of shame crashing over him. How could I let myself get so close?
He weaved through traffic, the car moving almost too fast, as if he could outrun the sickening guilt that gnawed at him. The penthouse wasn't far, but it felt like an eternity. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles straining against the pressure.
I need to get it together. Focus. I can't let her see me like this.
The city blurred past him, each passing moment punctuated by the rapid beating of his heart. His thoughts spun qwildly, jumping from regret to self-loathing, then back again.
Finally, the towering silhouette of his penthouse loomed ahead, a dark figure against the city skyline. He slowed just enough to make the sharp turn into the underground parking garage, the tires screeching in protest. The car came to a jarring halt as he slammed on the brakes, breathing hard as if he'd just run a marathon.
He threw the car into park and slumped back in his seat, staring at nothing as the weight of everything crashed down on him. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of how close he'd come to crossing an unforgivable line.
Dietrich turned to Elise, still unconscious in the passenger seat. She looked so fragile, so innocent—completely unaware of the turmoil raging within him. He sighed, running a hand over his face, trying to shake off the suffocating guilt.
Ignorance is a bliss, isn't it, Sunflower?
His hand unconsciously tucked her hair behind her ear, wondering if his feelings would fade the day he found his mate.
He unbuckled her seatbelt, careful not to wake her as he leaned over to pick her up. Her body was limp in his arms, her head resting against his chest. The faint scent of her perfume clung to his shirt, a bittersweet reminder of everything he was trying to forget.
Dietrich carried her to the elevator, the ride up to his penthouse a blur of tension and restraint. When the doors slid open, he moved swiftly, bringing her to the guest bedroom and laying her gently on the bed.
He stood there for a moment, staring down at her, torn between the urge to stay and the desperate need to get as far away from her as possible. With a deep, shuddering breath, he stepped back, retreating to the doorway.
Dietrich closed the door softly, his hand lingering on the handle as he hesitated, a million thoughts racing through his mind. His fingers tightened around the cold metal before he finally let go, the quiet click of the latch sealing off the room—and Elise—from his turmoil.
He leaned against the door, staring at the ceiling, trying to gather himself. The tension in his chest felt like a vice, tightening with each passing second. He needed to get his head straight, to think about what to do next. With a heavy sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket, his thumb hovering over the screen as he scrolled to his assistant's number.
"Sir?"
"Send me the location of the closest BDSM club. I need to get laid."