Love Rents A Room
Chapter 82: Beyond The Haze Of Lust

Chapter 82: Beyond The Haze Of Lust

JD tilted his head slightly, his nose brushing against hers, searching for something... anything... in her expression. But Joanne only smirked, her lashes fluttering before her lips parted slightly, teasing him without a single word.

A silent dare. A provocation that sent heat coursing through his veins.

JD exhaled sharply through his nose, his restraint unraveling, thread by thread. "Joanne..." he warned, his voice rough, his control fragile.

She only hummed in response, her fingers featherlight as they trailed over the nape of his neck. "Hmm?"

God help him.

His jaw clenched. She was playing with fire.

And so was he.

He almost didn’t care anymore. He leaned in, his lips grazing the curve of her neck. A kiss. Then another. Soft, searching, savoring. Her skin was warm beneath his mouth, and the scent of her—floral, intoxicating, uniquely her—was enough to drive him mad.

Joanne exhaled, her body responding, her back arching ever so slightly, offering herself up to him in a way that made something primal coil deep inside his chest. Her fingers twisted into his hair, pulling him closer, and then, just like that, she slipped out of dress letting it pool around her waist like liquid silk.

She reached for the strap of her bra. JD caught her wrist.

Her breath hitched as she tried to get her hands free. She was so hot she didn’t want any clothes on her. She rubbed her cheek against the crown of his head, her voice barely a whisper. "JD..."

He smirked against her skin. Was she the only one who could tease?

He could play this game too.

His lips traveled lower, his breath hot against her collarbone, then down—down—until he was buried against her, his mouth tracing over the smooth plane of her skin, tasting her, drinking her in. The small, breathy sounds she made were more potent than any liquor, each one unraveling him further, igniting something untamed in him.

His rough hands skimmed her sides, fingers mapping the softness of her curves, memorizing the way she trembled beneath his touch.

Then, suddenly—her grip tightened. She fisted the back of his hair and pulled.

JD stilled, his breath heavy against her skin.

No one ever handled him like that. Rough, as if he was a b*tch. He’d been with women before. Plenty. None had ever dared to take from him. To demand. They got what he offered.

But Joanne?

She could point a shotgun to his chest, pull the trigger, and he’d die happy—so long as, in his last breath, he heard her say those three coveted words.

I love you.

Joanne couldn’t think clearly. His warmth seeped into her, dissolving her thoughts into nothing but sensation.

"Who are you, JD?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the erratic pounding of her heart. Her teeth tugged at her lower lip, her breath shallow. "Huh? What are you doing to me?"

A shiver ran through her as she realized the truth—she was begging for him. Had she ever wanted anyone like this before? Had she ever felt this lost, this desperate, this utterly consumed? She had always been in control. Always knew where she stood. But with him... with JD, everything was different.

Why couldn’t she push him away?

Why didn’t she want to?

Why did she crave him, like an ache deep in her bones, a hunger she couldn’t name?

"Oh?" He smirked, watching her with dark, knowing eyes, his lips hovering just out of reach. Teasing. Torturing.

She moved forward instinctively, lips parting, body desperate to close the space between them, to taste him. But at the last second, he turned his head, letting her lips land on the roughness of his cheek instead.

Frustration flared inside her, sharp and unbearable.

He was playing with her. And yet... she wasn’t giving up. Her body, her very soul, yearned for him. She chased his lips, breath mingling with his, her fingers trembling as they curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

But then, firm and unyielding, his hand slid to the back of her neck, stopping her.

"Who am I to you?" His voice was low, a dark caress that sent a thrill straight through her.

Her breath hitched.

His fingers burned against her skin, sending tiny shocks down her spine. Her cheeks were aflame, her lips tingling from the ghost of almost-kisses. She was trembling, not from fear, but from something far more dangerous—need.

Against the softness of her breasts, he could feel the frantic thud of her heart. It pounded wildly, betraying her, revealing everything she refused to say.

He had wondered before—had felt it in fleeting moments—but now, he needed certainty.

This wasn’t just about taking her.

It was about knowing she wanted him beyond this moment, beyond the haze of lust.

But Joanne didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to give words to the storm inside her. She only wanted him. Wanted the fire, the heat, the pleasure she knew only he could give her.

Still, she met his gaze.

And in that instant, everything else faded.

"Your eyes..." she murmured, her voice thick with longing. From the first moment she had met him, those eyes had undone her. "They make me forget everything else. When you smile at me... When you stand up for me... When you... are near me... " she sighed. "Who the f*ck are you? Why do you make me feel so... alien in my own body?"

Her hands found his, trembling, desperate. She guided his palm over her chest, pressing it against the rapid, unsteady rhythm beneath her ribs.

"I don’t know what this is... but you feel it, don’t you?" Her voice cracked. "This is what happens every time I look at you. This... this is why I wanted to break up with Jonathan and~"

She didn’t get to finish.

JD’s restraint snapped.

His lips crashed onto hers, raw and demanding, stealing the breath from her lungs. A gasp escaped her as his fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her deeper, consuming her. His kiss was fire and hunger and something even more dangerous—something that made her knees weak and her body press helplessly against him.

He tasted like sin. Like salvation.

Her nails raked over his shoulders, gripping, needing, as heat pooled low in her belly. His hands roamed... possessive, reverent, as they skimmed the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine. She melted into him, lost, dizzy, drowning.

And in that moment, JD knew.

He wasn’t just some passing desire to her.

She might not be ready to say it.

She might not even know it yet.

But her body had already told him the truth.

And that was enough.