JAY-JAY POV
I drove to my apartment and—of course—Keifer was already there.
Leaning on his car. Arms crossed. Smirk ready.
Acting like he owned the whole parking lot.
"Hi, wifey," he said.
Asshole.
"Let's go inside. We need to pick two songs," I said, walking past him before he could say something that would make my heart do gymnastics again.
"We have to sing two songs, right?" Keifer asked, following me like a very annoying, very handsome shadow.
I nodded and unlocked my door.
He stepped inside right behind me, looking around like he was inspecting my apartment for… I don't know.
His lips quirked. "Cute place you've got here, asawa."
My breath hitched. Asawa. Wife. The Tagalog word rolled off his tongue like a caress
He sat on my couch like he owned the place.
I sat next to him like an idiot who forgot how to breathe.
"I already have two songs that I really want to sing," Keifer said.
"What is that?" I asked, pretending to be calm.
"Minamahal and Señorita," he said, smiling like he knew exactly what he was doing.
I blinked.
I blinked. Once. Twice.
The contrast was so Keifer—sweet and filthy all at once.
Minamahal was all soft devotion, the kind of song that made you believe in forever.
Señorita was pure, smoldering seduction, the kind of song that made you want to drag someone into the nearest dark corner and let them ruin you
A mix that would sound really good.
But before I could say anything, he leaned closer.
"Since your English is hot, it will be good. Please, baby."
I choked on my own oxygen.
"Baby?" I yelled.
Keifer's smile widened like he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life.
"Jay, you just called me baby."
"I didn't call you baby," I snapped.
"You did," he said, leaning even closer, eyes sparkling with pure chaos. "You said 'Baby?' like you were jealous."
"I WAS NOT JEALOUS," I said, louder than necessary.
He grinned. "You're cute when you deny things."
I grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it.
He laughed — that stupid warm laugh that made my heart do things I didn't approve of.
"Jay," he said softly, catching the pillow, "you can call me baby anytime."
"I'd rather call you King of Assholes," I muttered.
He smirked. "Still has love next to it though."
My soul left my body.
Idiot.
"Let's practice," I said, trying to pretend my heart wasn't doing backflips.
Keifer nodded, all calm and smug
"Look at the lyrics," he said, handing me his phone.
"I don't need it. I listen to those songs," I said, crossing my arms.
He nodded slowly… too slowly… like he was studying me.
Then he leaned back on the couch, eyes locked on mine.
"I think we should be a little close to each other when we're singing," he said, stepping toward me.
My brain short‑circuited for a second, but I nodded.
It was a love song after all.
"Which song should we practice first?" I asked, trying to sound normal.
"Why don't we do Señorita," he said, voice low, eyes locked on mine.
I nodded again, opening my mouth to say something—
But he didn't wait.
He didn't even give me a warning.
He just leaned in and kissed me.
And I melted instantly.
He kissed me like he'd been starving for years and suddenly remembered I was the only thing that could fill him.
There was nothing gentle about it—just pure urgency, like he'd been holding himself back for too long and finally snapped.
I started to become impatient and sucked his lips after my hands began to play with his hair.
I can't stop this feeling I want him more than I didn't want to admit
He opened his tongue and moaned into my mouth.
Then our tongues started to fight for dominance
We explored our mouths together with our tongues
Each fighting for dominance
Then I felt him pick me up and I wrapped my legs around him
My back met the counter and he leaned in, his lips and teeth sucking my jaw — not gentle, not hesitant, just full of the urgency he'd been holding back.
Every slow press of his mouth sent a shiver down my spine, my fingers curling into his shirt as if that was the only thing keeping me steady.
"Keifer…" I whispered, not even sure if I wanted him to stop or come closer.
Then he lowered his head, burying his face against my neck.
Not kissing.
Not speaking.
Just holding me there like he needed the moment to steady himself.
"How long will you pretend?" he murmured, his voice low, right against my skin.
My breath caught. "What are you talking about?"
He lifted his head, eyes locking onto mine — not playful, not teasing, just painfully honest.
"Let's be official," he said.
I didn't say anything.
Even though the word yes was right there — sitting on my tongue, pounding in my chest, begging to come out — I couldn't say it.
Because somewhere deep in me, in the part that still remembers every time someone left, every time someone lied, every time someone said something sweet and didn't mean it…
He looked down at us — at how close we were, at my legs still wrapped around his waist, at his hands still holding me like he wasn't planning to let go.
"Look at where you are, Jay," he said softly, but there was an edge in his voice. "You're giving yourself to me… and you still don't want to admit that you love me."
My stomach flipped.
I slowly pulled myself away from him, breath uneven, heart still racing like it hadn't gotten the memo that we were stopping.
"Let's practice," I said, shifting on the counter, trying to sound normal. Trying to pretend my whole body wasn't still reacting to him.
Keifer didn't move back.
He just looked at me — really looked — like he could see every thought I was trying to hide.
"Do you really not want to admit it?" he asked quietly.
My stomach tightened.
Then his expression changed — angry, sharp, wounded, jealous in a way he couldn't hide.
"Why?" he asked. "Is this because of that Ben? You love him?"
His voice cracked on the word love.
"You do really love him, don't you?" he pushed, eyes sharp, hurt, desperate.
He turned toward the door like he was ready to disappear from my life in one breath.
No.
Not again.
I grabbed his wrist and slammed him back against the door, my palm flat on his chest, my heartbeat loud enough to drown out everything else.
"Where do you think you're going?" I asked, voice shaking with anger I didn't even try to hide.
"I'm leaving, Jay," he said, jaw tight. "Isn't that what you wanted? For me to leave you?"
I stared at him, disbelief turning into pure fury.
"You asshole!" I yelled, the word ripping out of me before I could stop it.
His eyes widened, but I didn't let him speak.
"You can't just leave me whenever you want," I said, voice breaking, hands trembling against him.
He opened his mouth, but I pushed him harder against the door.
"That's what you did two months ago," I said, my voice dropping, raw and shaking. "You left because you thought you were protecting me. You disappeared. You didn't call. You didn't text. You just left."
His breath hitched.
"And then you come back after one month," I continued, my throat tightening, "and suddenly you want everything from me? Suddenly you want me to say yes? Suddenly you want me to trust you like nothing happened?"
His eyes softened, but I wasn't done.
"You don't get to leave me," I whispered, my voice cracking, anger and fear tangled so tightly I couldn't tell them apart anymore.
I grabbed his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him — hard, desperate, furious.
"Let me make this clear, Keifer," I said against his lips before kissing him again. "I want to be yours completely. I want to be your girlfriend, your fiancé, your wife."
Another kiss — deeper, shaking, like I was trying to force the truth into him.
"I want to be the mother of your kids," I breathed, kissing him one more time, slower this time, like a promise.
Then I pulled back.
His breath hitched.
His hands froze on my waist.
His eyes were wide, stunned
I stared right at him, my voice low but steady.
"But if you still want to leave," I said, every word sharp enough to cut, "then go."
His jaw clenched.
"And don't you ever," I whispered, stepping back just enough to make him feel the distance, "fucking show me your face again."
Before the last word even settled in the air, he grabbed my face and kissed me — fast, desperate, like he couldn't stand even one inch of space between us.
"I'm sorry," he breathed against my lips, smiling that small, shaken smile he only ever shows me. "I shouldn't have said that."
He pulled me into a hug, arms tight around me like he was afraid I'd disappear if he loosened his grip.
But I wasn't done.
I pulled back just enough to see his face… then kissed him.
Hungry — like everything I'd been holding back finally snapped.
He reacted instantly.
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His hands gripped my waist, hauling me off the ground again, but this time there was no hesitation, no teasing. He walked us to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him with a slam that echoed the pounding of my heart. He dropped me onto the mattress, following me down before I could even take a breath.
"You're mine," he growled against my throat, his voice rough, stripped of all that usual smugness. It was raw now, desperate. "Say it."
"I'm yours," I gasped, my back arching as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin where my neck met my shoulder. "I'm yours, Keifer."
He made a low sound in his chest, half-groan, half-growl, and his hands moved to the hem of my shirt. He didn't ask; he just pulled it over my head in one swift motion, tossing it aside like it was in his way. The cool air hit my skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze. He stared down at me, his eyes dark, dilated, burning with a hunger that made my thighs clench.
"Keifer…" I breathed, reaching for him.
He caught my wrists, pinning them above my head in one of his large hands. "No," he said, his voice commanding. "Let me look at you."
I squirmed under his scrutiny, my face flushing. "You're looking."
"Not enough," he murmured. He leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone, down the center of my chest, tracing the line of my bra with his tongue. "I've spent two months imagining this, Jay. Imagining you under me. Imagining what you sound like when you fall apart."
My breath hitched. "You have?"
"Every night," he admitted, his voice muffled against my skin as he reached behind me to unclasp my bra. The fabric loosened, and he slid the straps down my arms, baring me to him. "Every single night I was gone."
He paused, his eyes raking over me, and for a second, the arrogance was back, mixed with something so tender it made my chest ache. "You're perfect."
He lowered his head, capturing one nipple in his mouth, and my hips bucked off the bed. He swirled his tongue around the peak, sucking hard enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to my core, while his free hand kneaded my other breast.
"God, Keifer," I moaned, my hands twisting in the sheets, desperate to touch him but unable to break his hold on my wrists.
He hummed against my skin, switching to the other side, giving it the same agonizing attention. He bit down gently, soothing the sting with his tongue, and I felt myself getting wetter, my body aching for something more.
"Please," I whimpered.
"Please what?" He lifted his head, his eyes locking onto mine. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Tell me what you want, asawa."
"I want… I want you to touch me."
"I am touching you," he teased, his hand sliding down my stomach, his fingers tracing the waistband of my jeans.
"Lower," I demanded.
He smirked, but his eyes were dark with intent. He popped the button of my jeans, sliding the zipper down with agonizing slowness. He hooked his fingers into the denim and my panties, dragging them both down my legs and tossing them onto the floor.
Now I was completely bare before him, and he was still fully clothed. The power dynamic should have made me feel exposed, but it only made me want him more. I wanted him to lose control. I wanted to be the one to strip him of that calm, calculated exterior.
I sat up, reaching for his shirt. "Your turn."
He let me pull it over his head, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest, the muscles I had admired so many times but never gotten to touch like this. I ran my hands over his shoulders, down his abs, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin.
He groaned, his hands catching my hips and pulling me to the edge of the bed. He knelt on the floor between my legs, looking up at me like I was a feast he was about to devour.
"Keifer, what are you—"
"Shh," he hushed me, placing a kiss on my inner thigh. "I'm going to taste you."
Before I could process the words, he leaned in and ran his tongue flat against my slit.
I cried out, my hands flying to his hair, my hips jerking forward. He didn't stop. He licked me again, deeper this time, parting my folds with his tongue, finding my clit with unerring precision.
"Oh god," I gasped, my head falling back.
He groaned against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body.
He sucked my clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves while he slid one finger inside me.
I was so wet, so ready, that he slid in easily.
"Fuck, you're tight," he murmured, pulling back slightly to look at me. "And so wet for me."
He added a second finger, curling them upward, finding that spot inside me that made me see stars. He pumped his fingers in and out, his tongue working my clit mercilessly. The dual sensation was overwhelming, dragging moan after moan from my throat.
I looked down at him, seeing the dark brown head buried between my thighs, and the sight was almost as erotic as the feeling. He was eating me out with a single-minded focus, like he couldn't get enough of my taste.
"Keifer, I'm… I'm close," I warned him, my thighs starting to tremble.
"Come for me, Jay," he commanded against my skin, not letting up. "Come on my tongue."
He sucked hard on my clit, his fingers thrusting deep, and that was it.
The pleasure snapped, intense and blinding. I cried out his name, my back bowing off the mattress, my orgasm crashing over me.
He rode me through it, his tongue lapping at my release, prolonging the sensation until I was breathless and trembling.
When the aftershocks finally subsided, he pulled back, wiping his glistening mouth with the back of his hand. He looked feral. Satisfied. And still hungry.
He stood up, his hands going to his belt. "I'm not done with you yet."
My eyes were drawn to the unmistakable bulge in his pants, and my mouth went dry. I watched, mesmerized, as he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and shoved them down along with his boxers.
His cock sprang free, thick and hard, curving up towards his stomach. The sight made my breath hitch all over again. He was big. Bigger than I had… well, bigger than I had let myself imagine.
He kicked his clothes away and crawled back over me, settling his hips between my thighs. The blunt head of his cock nudged against my entrance, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
"Are you on the pill?" he asked, his voice strained, his control hanging by a thread.
"Yes," I breathed. "I'm clean."
"Me too," he said. "I haven't been with anyone since… since before."
"Then do it," I said, locking eyes with him. "Fuck me, Keifer."
He didn't need to be told twice. He braced himself on one arm, using the other to line himself up. He pushed forward, breaching me slowly, stretching me open. I gasped at the intrusion, the slight burn mixed with intense pleasure as he filled me inch by inch.
He stopped when he was fully seated, his forehead resting against mine, his breathing ragged. "Jay… god. You feel incredible."
"Move," I whispered, digging my heels into his back. "Please move."
He pulled back, almost all the way out, then slammed back in. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders. He set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against mine with a rhythm that stole my breath.
"You're mine," he gritted out, thrusting deep. "Say it again."
"I'm yours," I moaned, meeting him thrust for thrust. "All yours."
He lowered his head, kissing me fiercely, swallowing my moans. His tongue invaded my mouth, mimicking the rhythm of his cock below. It was raw, it was dirty, and it was everything I wanted.
He reached between us, finding my clit again, and rubbed tight circles around it. The stimulation was almost too much, pushing me higher and higher toward another edge.
"Keifer… I can't…"
"You can," he urged, his voice rough in my ear. "Come with me."
He thrust harder, deeper, hitting that spot inside me with every stroke. My toes curled, my body tightening like a bowstring. The pressure built and built, until it finally shattered.
I came with a scream, my inner muscles clamping down around him, milking him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. He groaned, burying his face in my neck, his hips jerking erratically as he chased his own release.
"Jay!" he shouted, his body going rigid as he came, pumping himself deep inside me.
We stayed like that for a long time, our hearts pounding against each other's ribs, our breath mingling in the small space between us. He pressed soft kisses to my shoulder, my neck, my jaw, gentle now, reverent.
Finally, he lifted his head to look at me.
He cupped my cheek with a gentleness that didn't match the way we'd just been clinging to each other. His thumb brushed my skin like he was memorizing it.
"Jay," he whispered, voice rough, "I don't ever want to fight with you like that again."
I swallowed, my chest tightening. "Then don't walk away from me."
He shook his head, forehead pressing against mine. "I won't. Not after what you said. Not after what you chose."
His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, and I kissed him again — slow this time, deep, like we were both trying to steady ourselves.
He kissed me back like he'd been waiting for this version of me.
"Let's rest," he said softly.
I nodded, still feeling the aftershocks of everything
He took my hand and guided me to the bathroom.
We cleaned up together, quiet, gentle
When we were done, he handed me one of his shirts — soft, oversized, smelling like him.
He didn't say anything about it, just slipped it over my head like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He changed into just his boxers, then went to the bed and stripped the sheets, replacing them with fresh ones.
He lowered the temperature on the AC, muttering something about "you sleep better when it's cold," like he'd been paying attention all along.
Then he came back for me.
I took it.
He guided me into the bed, pulled the blanket over both of us, and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest like I belonged there.
"Let's sleep," he murmured, his voice low and warm against my hair.
I exhaled, sinking into him, letting the quiet settle around us.