I never expected to end up tangled in the sheets with Jack Carlisle, my family’s longtime friend and my unofficial guardian. The morning after our passionate night together, I did what I do best: I put on my ice queen face and pretended nothing had ever happened between us. But Jack? Oh, he’s not taking it well at all. He’s going absolutely crazy, trying to make me acknowledge what we shared. I heard that he never dates, never gives women a chance at a real relationship. And he certainly never touches the same woman twice. Yet somehow, we’ve been maintaining this secret affair for six whole months. Then one day, Mrs. Carlisle excitedly showed me a photo. “Jack picked his fiancée himself. Isn’t she beautiful?” I looked at the stunningly gorgeous woman in the picture and smiled, offering my congratulations. “She’s very pretty. They make a great couple. Congratulations to Jack.” Late that night, Jack suddenly appeared in my room. “Getting cocky, aren’t you, Aria? Calling me ‘daddy’ in bed and ‘Mr. Carlisle’ outside. Are you playing games with me?”
As I made my way downstairs, my body aching, I saw Jack sitting at the dining table. His tie was undone, his collar open, revealing the bite mark on his collarbone. I nearly stumbled, quickly grabbing the railing to steady myself. Jack glanced up at me, his tone as calm and indifferent as ever: “Be careful coming down.” “Mm, I will,” I replied. He said nothing more, lowering his gaze to continue eating. I watched his long fingers grip the knife and fork, cutting into the food on his plate. His knuckles were prominent, his hands clean and strong. My cheeks began to burn as I remembered how those hands, so skilled with surgical instruments, had explored uncharted territories of my body just last night. Again and again, they had brought me to the heights of pleasure.
I bypassed the dining room and headed for the kitchen. Grabbing an egg and a carton of milk, I prepared to leave. “Aria,” Jack suddenly called out to me. I instinctively stopped and turned around. He had already stood up, taking the jacket handed to him by the housekeeper. “I’ll give you a ride. We’re going the same way,” he said. “No need, I can take the subway…” I began to protest. Jack didn’t respond, just looked down at me from his imposing height. My gaze accidentally fell on the bite mark on his collarbone, and I quickly looked away, as if burned.
“No subway today,” Jack said, glancing at his watch. “Let’s go.” Afraid of annoying him, I didn’t insist further. Jack, being a surgeon, was always a neat freak. I didn’t dare eat anything in his car, so I stuffed the egg and milk into my backpack. As I got into the car earlier, I must have aggravated the tender area between my legs. Sitting in the car seat made me feel uncomfortably stiff. Jack seemed to notice. He closed his tablet and lowered the partition in the car. “We’ll stop by a pharmacy. You should apply some ointment,” he said. I kept my head down, my face burning hot. “Okay.” “If it still hurts after applying the medicine, come to the hospital. I’ll take care of it.” “Alright.” “I drank a bit too much last night. I lost control and hurt you.” “It’s okay, Mr. Carlisle,” I said softly. “I was drunk too. It wasn’t entirely your fault.” I understood Jack’s meaning clearly. In his view, last night was just drunken sex. But the truth was, I hadn’t been drunk at all. I had deliberately used alcohol as an excuse to let myself cross the line. “Don’t overthink it. Focus on your studies for now.” “Mm.” The car moved smoothly forward. I sat properly, occasionally brushing against his pants with my bare legs when the car bumped. He didn’t move away, but I discreetly shifted further from him.
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