He Wouldn't Claim Me — Another Man Did-Chapter 76 - 69: Continue

"Make a wish and blow out the candles."

Isla Prescott, keeping an eye on the clock, hurried him along. Shane Sterling was cooperative, closing his eyes to make a wish and blowing out the candles in one smooth motion.

When the lights came back on, Isla Prescott realized Shane Sterling had been looking at her the whole time.

"What are you looking at me for?"

Shane Sterling shook his head.

"Let’s cut the cake," Isla Prescott said. "Once we’ve had some, the day will be perfect."

"Today is already perfect." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

’The moment she rushed here from Nordenburg and appeared before me, today was already perfect.’

Even so, Shane Sterling still ate a piece of cake with her before midnight.

Isla Prescott watched as the man, who normally didn’t care for sweets, polished off a large slice of cake. She smiled and asked, "Is the cake good?"

"Delicious." He was generous with his praise. "This is the best cake I’ve ever had."

’Who doesn’t love a good compliment, especially coming from the sharp-tongued Young Mr. Shaw?’

Content, Isla Prescott packed up the rest of the cake and began to clean the workstation.

Shane Sterling stood by, wanting to help but not knowing how. He turned and started looking around Sarah Hayes’s dessert shop instead.

Sarah Hayes had opened the dessert shop last year, decorating it in the popular "Instagrammable" style of the time. From the decor to the knickknacks, everything had a fresh, minimalist vibe. But since all the desserts and pastries were baked fresh and sold out daily, the display cases were empty. There wasn’t much to see.

As Shane Sterling wandered around, his eyes landed on a photo wall.

The wall was covered in photos documenting the "graduates" of Sarah Hayes’s "Little Baking Class."

When the shop first opened, Sarah Hayes had run a cake-decorating class for customers to draw in more business. That was when Isla Prescott had learned to make cakes.

"Isn’t this you?" Shane Sterling suddenly pointed to a photo on the wall and turned to Isla Prescott.

Alarm bells went off in Isla Prescott’s head.

’Oh no!’

’That photo was taken when I made that airplane cake for Silas Lockwood. If Shane finds out the cake is shaped like an airplane, he’s going to be unbelievably jealous again.’

"I’m all done here. Let’s go."

Isla Prescott hurried over and switched off the overhead light, plunging the photo wall into darkness.

By the faint light filtering in from the streetlamps, she took Shane Sterling’s hand to lead him out.

Shane Sterling didn’t budge.

"Why are you acting so guilty?" he asked.

"I’m not acting guilty."

"A moment ago, your eyes were darting around faster than falling autumn leaves."

"I don’t think so. You must be mistaken."

"I might have been mistaken about the look in your eyes, but I’m definitely not mistaken about this photo." Shane Sterling switched on his phone’s flashlight and aimed it at the picture. "Zenith Airlines B-7879. What a... special airplane cake."

Shane Sterling’s tone and expression were the very definition of sour grapes.

"You could make out such tiny lettering? You have great eyesight, Young Mr. Shaw," Isla Prescott said with a forced laugh.

"Don’t change the subject. Tell me, who did you give the cake to?"

Isla Prescott averted her gaze, her voice barely a whisper. "You’re asking even though you already know the answer."

Shane Sterling wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her toward him.

"Isla Prescott, can you please stop looking at him?" he asked in a low voice, almost a plea.

In that moment, Isla Prescott saw a strange mix in Shane Sterling: the dominance of a man in a position of power and the vulnerability of a man begging for affection.

’He was so full of contradictions, he looked like he might just fall apart.’

"I stopped looking at him a long time ago." Isla Prescott held her eyes wide open with her fingers and leaned close to Shane Sterling’s face. "Look. Who do you see in my eyes right now?"

Her irises were as clear as spring water, and in them, Shane Sterling saw his own reflection.

He couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her.

Anticipating his move, Isla Prescott put a hand up to stop him.

"There are cameras here. Don’t start anything. Let’s go home."

With that, she turned and led the way out.

Shane Sterling watched her go, a smile playing on his lips as he pressed his tongue into his cheek. He repeated her last words, "Let’s go home."

’Home.’

--

By the time they got home, it was already past midnight. Shane Sterling’s birthday was officially over.

"You should get some rest. Good night."

Isla Prescott stepped out of the elevator, gave him a wave, and turned to open her door.

Shane Sterling placed a hand on the door, holding it open.

"What was that you said earlier?"

"What did I say?"

Shane Sterling raised an eyebrow. "Playing dumb, are we? Don’t worry, I’ll help you remember."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned in as if to kiss her, but stopped, his lips hovering just over hers.

"This is where we left off, isn’t it?"

"Yes."

"And then you said there were cameras, told me not to start anything, and said, ’Let’s go home.’"

"That’s right. And here we are, home."

"And didn’t you mean ’let’s go home and continue’?"

"Sorry, but that’s really not what I meant."

She gave him a mischievous smile and tried to slip away.

Shane Sterling held her firmly by the shoulders.

"I don’t care what you meant. I’m going with my interpretation."

He cupped her chin and lowered his head, capturing her lips in a kiss that was passionate, deep, and utterly domineering.

After some real-world practice, Shane Sterling’s kissing skills had improved by leaps and bounds. Isla Prescott soon melted in his embrace, finding it hard to resist. As she shifted, she accidentally brushed against his injury.

He let out a sharp "HISS!" and pulled back from her lips.

"Did I hurt you?" Isla Prescott asked nervously.

Shane Sterling clutched the corner of his mouth. "It’s killing me. You have to take responsibility. I’m sleeping here tonight."

She was speechless. "I wasn’t the one who hit you. Why don’t you go have Silas Lockwood take responsibility?"

"Don’t bring him up at a time like this. It’s a total mood-killer."

Shane Sterling pulled her into his arms again, kissing her as he guided her through the door. They stumbled their way from the entryway to the living room, finally tumbling together onto the sofa.

Isla Prescott landed in Shane Sterling’s embrace. In the light, she could finally see that the cut at the corner of his mouth was deeper than she had thought.

"No more fighting from now on," Isla Prescott said, gently stroking his lip.

He hummed in agreement. "Whatever you say."

Isla Prescott rested against his chest for a moment. Just as she caught her breath, Shane Sterling began kissing her again.

The passion that had cooled began to boil once more.

The air in the living room quickly grew thick and sultry.

He kissed her until she was dizzy and breathless. Finally, she managed to gasp out a suggestion, "Can we shower first?"

With the heat between them rising and falling, her makeup was starting to feel sticky and uncomfortable against her sweat-slicked skin.

Shane Sterling sensed her discomfort. And even though he was feeling far more... pent-up, he released her.

They went to their respective rooms to shower.

After his shower, Shane Sterling came back, now dressed in pajamas.

When Isla Prescott came out of the bathroom after drying her hair, he was already lying in her bed, scrolling on his phone.

She lifted the covers and lay down beside him.

"Let’s get some sleep," Shane Sterling said calmly, placing his phone on the nightstand.

Isla Prescott had assumed the shower had completely doused his desire, but when she accidentally rolled over and brushed against him, she realized the water had done little to cool him off.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her; he was just keeping his promise. He had promised to respect her wishes when it came to physical intimacy.

Isla Prescott scooted closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"What was it I said earlier?" she asked.

"What did you say?" Shane Sterling wasn’t playing dumb; he genuinely didn’t know what she was referring to.

Isla Prescott tilted her head up and gently licked the cut at the corner of his lip.

"I said, ’Can we shower first?’ What’s your interpretation of that?"

Shane Sterling’s dark eyes locked onto hers. In the dim light, her cheeks were flushed, her gaze a mixture of shyness and dazed desire.

When he finally spoke, his voice was deep and hoarse. "Are you saying that... now that we’ve showered, we can continue?"