JAY JAY POV
I squeezed my eyes shut, clutching the duvet tighter. I couldn't believe it. All those weeks of receiving those cryptic, annoying, and borderline perverted texts from "GagonBaliw," and it was him all along!
The riddles that made my head ache, the way he constantly called me "wifey" before we were even on speaking terms, the way he seemed to know exactly what I was doing... I should have known. Who else would be that obsessed? Who else would have the audacity to be that annoying?
"Jay-Jay, baby, please..." Keifer's voice was right by my ear, sounding pathetic and desperate.
I didn't move. I kept my back turned to him, my jaw set.
"Don't 'baby' me, you stalker," I muttered into my pillow. "I spent hours trying to trace that number. I almost had Jare hack the local towers because I thought I had a high-profile harasser. And it was just my own fiancé being a gago."
"It was the only way I could get you to 'talk' to me without you throwing a shoe at my head!" Keifer argued, his hand tentatively resting on my waist. "And admit it, you liked the attention. You replied to almost every text."
I rolled over so fast he flinched, glare fixed on him. "I replied to tell you to go to hell! There is a big difference, Keifer Watson."
He was looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes, the ones that usually make my heart melt, but not tonight. Not after I found out he'd been playing me for a fool through a screen.
"A month, Keifer," I said, pointing a finger at his chest. "One whole month of no kisses. And if you try to sneak one, I'm extending it to two"
Keifer looked like I had just told him the world was ending. "A month?! Jay, that's cruel and unusual punishment. I just got my birthday present, don't take the best part of it away."
"You should have thought about that before you became a professional texter," I huffed, turning back around and pulling the covers up.
I could hear him sprawling out behind me, let out a long, dramatic groan that probably shook the floorboards. Part of me wanted to laugh—it was typical Keifer—but I had to hold my ground. He needed to learn that he couldn't keep secrets from a me
"I'm sleeping," I announced. "Don't touch me."
"Can I at least hold your hand?" he whispered tentatively.
"No."
"Your pinky?"
I groaned and pushed myself up, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Keifer was sitting opposite me, his arms crossed over his bare chest, sporting a massive, frustrated pout that made him look more like a scolded toddler than the King of the Ulupong
As I moved, the silk strap of my nightdress slipped further down my shoulder, and I saw his eyes track the movement instinctively before he forced himself to look back at my face.
"JAY JAY, what do you want me to do?!" Keifer asked, his voice rising in genuine frustration. "If you knew it was me from the start, would you have even replied? Would you have texted me back?"
I opened my mouth to say yes, but the lie died in my throat. I looked at him—really looked at him. If I had known it was Keifer Watson, the arrogant, overbearing man who thought he could claim me like a trophy, I would have blocked the number in five seconds. I would have felt smothered.
But texting that stranger... it had been a game. An escape.
"No," I admitted quietly, pulling the silk robe back up onto my shoulder. "I wouldn't have."
Keifer threw his hands up in the air. "Exactly! I had to be someone else just to get a minute of your time without you putting up those thousand-foot-tall walls. I was desperate, Jay. I am always desperate for you."
He looked so defeated, his hair messy and his eyes searching mine, that the anger started to seep out of me, replaced by that annoying tug in my chest he always managed to provoke.
"You're still a pervert," I whispered, though the bite was gone from my tone.
"I'm your pervert," he countered, leaning in just an inch, his gaze flickering down to my lips before he remembered the 'ban.' "And I only said those things because I knew they'd make you blush through the phone. I could practically feel your temper through the screen, and I loved it."
I leaned forward, closing the gap until our noses were almost touching. I could smell the faint scent of the night air and his expensive cologne on his skin.
"You think you're so smart, Watson," I murmured. "But you forget one thing. I'm Jay Jay . If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to hide behind a burner phone like a coward."
"I'm not a coward," he growled, his voice dipping low as his hands found my waist, pulling me an inch closer. "I was a man in love playing a dangerous game. And I won, didn't I? You're here. In my bed. Wearing that dress."
I felt a shiver run down my spine. The 'no kisses' rule was feeling harder to keep by the second.
"Still an asshole," I breathed, the words losing their edge as my hands stayed tangled in his hair.
He moved in even closer, the heat radiating off his bare chest making my skin tingle. His face was so close that if I breathed in, I was breathing him.
I looked at him, my heart doing that annoying double-thump it always does when he gets this close. He was so confident, so sure of himself, even while I was threatening to starve him of any affection for the next thirty days.
"Still an asshole," I breathed, the words losing their edge as my hands stayed tangled in his hair.
He moved in even closer, the heat radiating off his bare chest making my skin tingle. His face was so close that if I breathed in, I was breathing him.
"Yeah," he rumbled, his voice vibrating deep in his chest. "But you love this asshole."
He wasn't wrong. That was the problem. I loved the arrogant, possessive, over-the-top Keifer Watson who would burn the world down for me, and I apparently also loved the "GagonBaliw" who sent me annoying riddles and checked on me through a screen when I wouldn't let him in.
I leaned back just enough to look him in the eye, trying to regain some of my Mariano composure.
"Don't get cocky," I warned, my voice trembling slightly.
Keifer didn't flinch. Instead, he let out a low, dark chuckle. He didn't kiss me—he knew the rules—but he leaned down and pressed his forehead against mine, his nose brushing against mine in a way that felt more intimate than a kiss ever could.
The proximity was agonizing. I could feel the heat of his skin, the steady rhythm of his heart against my chest. My gaze dropped to his lips—those same lips that had been teasing me all night.
"One month is a long time, Keifer," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
"I know," he murmured back, his breath hitting my lips. "But I'm a patient man. I waited years for you. I can wait thirty days for a kiss that's actually earned."
He started to pull back, his hands slowly sliding away from my waist, but I found myself tightening my grip on the nape of his neck. My resolve was crumbling faster than a sandcastle in high tide.
"I didn't say the month started right now," I said, my pride finally taking a backseat to my want for him.
Keifer froze, his eyes widening with a glimmer of hope that made him look like he'd just won the lottery. "Wait... are you saying...?"
"I'm saying," I began, pulling him back down until our lips were a fraction of an inch apart, "that you should make this one count. Because once the sun comes up, you're on your own, Watson."
He didn't need to be told twice. He crashed his lips against mine, the kiss desperate, fierce, and full of all the things he hadn't been able to say through those text messages. I melted into him, forgetting the riddles, the burner phones, and the "no kisses" rule entirely.
He tumbled us back onto the mattress, his heavy frame hovering over me. He supported his weight on his elbows so he wouldn't crush me, but he stayed close enough that I could feel every line of his muscles against my skin. His hands moved with a frantic sort of worship, weaving through my hair and cupping my face as if he were trying to memorize my bone structure through his fingertips.
The kiss grew deeper, more desperate. Every time his tongue traced the seam of my lips, I opened for him, letting out a soft, broken moan that only seemed to fuel his fire. The silk of my nightdress felt paper-thin against the searing heat radiating from him. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
He broke away for a split second, only to trail a path of scorching kisses along my jawline and down to the sensitive dip of my neck. I arched my back, my breath hitching as his stubble grazed my skin.
"You're going to be the death of me, Jay-Jay," he rasped against my skin, his voice thick and rough with a need that made my head spin. "The absolute death of me."
"Then die," I whispered breathlessly, pulling him back up to me. "But don't you dare stop."
He didn't. He reclaimed my mouth with a possessive intensity that told me exactly how much he'd been holding back. It was a messy, frantic struggle for dominance—one moment I was pulling him down, the next he was pinning my wrists gently above my head, his eyes dark with a heat that made everything else in the world disappear.
As Keifer's lips crashed back onto mine, a hungry, desperate sound echoed in his throat, a guttural "Mmmph!" that sent a thrill down my spine. I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as our tongues danced, exploring, tasting, demanding.
His hands roamed my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He cupped my breast, his thumb brushing against my nipple through the thin silk of my nightdress, making it pebble into a tight peak. I moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by our kiss, "Mmm... Keifer..."
He growled in response, a low, animalistic sound that vibrated through his chest and into mine. His lips left a scorching trail along my jawline, his stubble grazing my skin, the sensation sending shivers down my spine. I could hear the soft, wet sounds of his kisses, the gentle smacking of our lips as we explored each other.
He reached the sensitive dip of my neck, and I let out a breathy gasp, "Oh... Keifer..." His tongue darted out, tasting my skin, making me shiver. He hummed against my neck, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through me, "Jay-Jay... you're intoxicating."
The heat in the room was suffocating in the best way possible. Keifer's hands were everywhere, tracing the hem of my silk nightdress, his eyes dark with a hunger that made my pulse race. I was lost in him, my hands gripping his shoulders, my head thrown back.
Just as his fingers hooked under the strap of my nightdress to slide it off my shoulder—
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"KUYA!" Keiran's voice boomed through the wooden door, loud enough to wake the entire street. "KUYA, OPEN UP! I CAN'T FIND THE CHARGER FOR MY LAPTOP AND I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF A RANKED GAME!"
The spell didn't just break; it shattered into a million jagged pieces.
"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Keifer roared, burying his face in the crook of my neck with a frustrated groan that sounded like a wounded animal.
I was frozen for a second, my heart still hammering against my ribs, before I realized the situation. I let out a shaky, breathless laugh, pushing at Keifer's chest. "Your brother... has impeccable timing."
"I'm going to kill him," Keifer growled against my skin, his grip tightening for a brief moment before he forced himself to pull away. "I am actually going to murder him and bury him in the backyard."
"KUYA! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! I HEARD YOU YELLING!" Keiran continued to hammer on the door. "COME ON, THE GAME IS GOING TO END IN FIVE MINUTES! HURRY UP!"
Keifer sat up, running both hands through his already messy hair, looking absolutely feral. His chest was heaving, and his skin was flushed. He looked at me—still sprawled on the bed, silk nightdress tousled, lips swollen—and let out another long, pained groan.
"Don't move," he commanded, his voice gravelly. "If I come back and you've put on a hoodie, I'm doubling Keiran's chores for a year."
He grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the floor, shoved his legs into them, and stormed toward the door. He didn't just open it; he ripped it open.
"WHAT?!" Keifer yelled.
I huddled under the duvet, biting my lip to keep from laughing out loud at the look on Keiran's face.
"Whoa," Keiran said, stumbling back a step. "Why are you so sweaty? And why do you look like you want to eat me? I just need the charger—"
"IN THE KITCHEN DRAWER, KEIRAN! THE THIRD ONE!" Keifer snarled, literally pointing down the hallway. "IF YOU KNOCK ON THIS DOOR AGAIN BEFORE THE SUN COMES UP, I WILL PERSONALLY MAKE SURE YOU NEVER PLAY A RANKED GAME AGAIN IN YOUR LIFE! GO!"
"Okay, okay! Geez! Relax!" Keiran scrambled away, his footsteps echoing down the stairs.
Keifer slammed the door shut and locked it—loudly. He leaned his forehead against the wood for a moment, taking deep, steadying breaths, before turning back to me.
"Now," he said, his voice dropping low as he walked back toward the bed, the "angry brother" persona vanishing and being replaced by that dangerous glint. "Where were we before I was so rudely interrupted?"
I smirked, pulling the duvet up to my chin. "The month started, Keifer. Remember? You left the bed. You broke the contact. Door is closed, and so is the 'make-out' section."
Keifer stopped at the edge of the bed, looking like I'd just stabbed him. "You cannot be serious. That was an Act of God! A sibling emergency!"
"A charger emergency," I corrected, popping the 'p'. "Better luck in thirty days, Watson."
"Jay after what we just did you can't make it 30 days" Keifer asked basically yelling
I watched him standing there, looking utterly defeated and half-feral at the same time. The sight of the King of the Serpents being brought to his knees by a laptop charger was almost too much to handle.
"Jay, after what we just did, you can't make it thirty days!" Keifer asked, his voice cracking as he practically yelled, his hands hovering in the air like he was trying to figure out how to grab me without breaking a law.
"Sorry, Keifer. Rules are rules," I said, my voice steady despite the way my heart was still racing. "Next time, you'll learn not to lie to me."
"Jay-Jay, I will die if I don't touch you," Keifer groaned, stepping closer, his heat radiating off him. "I'll actually wither away. You'll have a corpse for a fiancé."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the smirk tugging at my lips. I stood up on the bed, using the height of the mattress so we were finally eye-to-eye. I leaned in, the silk of my nightdress shifting with the movement.
"Fine, Mr. Watson," I whispered, watching his eyes track the movement of my lips. "I will decrease the punishment. Since we're obviously getting married on my birthday—which is in two weeks—you can't have any more... sessions... like that with me. A simple kiss is fine, but what we just did? That's off-limits until our wedding night."
"You're going to kill me with these rules," Keifer groaned, dropping his forehead against mine. "Two weeks of just simple kisses? That's torture."
I smirked, leaning in so close that my lips brushed against the shell of his ear. I felt him shiver, his hands clenching into fists at his sides to keep from touching me.
"Or," I murmured, my voice dropping to a low, sultry velvet, "maybe we can postpone the wedding and put it on December 21st... the winter solstice. We could have the longest night of the year to make up for every second of this."
I felt his breath hitch. December 21st was months away, but the mental image of the "longest night" clearly hit him like a freight train.
I felt the heat rush to my face, my breath hitching in my throat. I had tried to tease him, to throw him off balance with the idea of a long winter night, but Keifer Watson didn't just take the bait—he turned it back on me with enough force to make my head spin.
"My not-so-innocent wifey," Keifer growled, his voice a low, vibrating rumble against my lips that sent a frantic shiver straight down my spine. "The moment I hear the words I now pronounce you husband and wife, I will personally kidnap you. And I'm going to make sure I fuck you hard enough that you won't be able to walk straight for a year."
My heart hammered against my ribs like a physical blow. The raw, possessive promise in his tone wasn't a joke; it was a vow.
I swallowed hard, my confidence wavering just for a second under the sheer intensity of his gaze. "Is that a threat, Watson?" I managed to whisper, though it lacked its usual bite.
"It's a promise, Jay-Jay," he rasped, leaning in until his nose brushed against mine, his scent—something dark and masculine—clouding my senses. "You want to play with rules? You want to talk about 'the longest night'? Just remember that every day you make me wait is another hour I'm adding to that night. By the time I finally get you, you're going to be begging me for a break."
I smirked, trying to regain my footing even as my legs felt like jelly. "Big words for a man who just got yelled at by his little brother for a laptop charger."
Keifer's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might break my "simple kiss" rule right then and there. But he just let out a sharp, jagged exhale and pulled back, the predatory look in his eyes replaced by a smoldering, frustrated heat.
"Two weeks," he muttered, pointing a finger at me. "Fourteen days. Enjoy your power while it lasts, Mariano. Because once that ring is on your finger, the rules are mine."
He flopped back onto his side of the bed, the mattress groaning under his weight. I stayed standing on the bed for a heartbeat longer, looking down at his broad shoulders and the way his muscles were still tense.
I sat down and crawled under the duvet, suddenly feeling very small in the face of his promise. I turned my back to him, but I could still feel the phantom heat of his words on my skin.
"Goodnight, Keifer," I whispered into the dark.
"Goodnight, Jay," he replied, his voice still rough. "Sleep well. You're going to need the rest for march"
I bit my lip, clenching the pillow. Two weeks. Fourteen days until my birthday. Fourteen days until I officially became a Watson.
I had always been the one in control, the one who meddled and managed everyone's lives. But as I lay there, listening to Keifer's steady breathing, I realized that for the first time in my life, I was looking forward to letting someone else take the lead—even if it meant I wouldn't be walking straight for a year.