NovelOnlineChapter 493 "Yeah." "Wait-what? That's all? Since when are you so agreeable?" Chris had cprepared with a whole speech, but Rupert just cut him off with a low voice: "Cut the crap. What else?" Chris, already pulling on a pair of latex gloves, got serious. "What else is—lie down. I need to change your bandage. Now." Rupert didn't argue. He just lay down without a word.
Chris worked fast, hands steady. "Stop doing stupid things, all right? Tear this open again and you're in trouble." "Yeah," Rupert muttered.
He sat up, moving slow, and only bothered to button three buttons on his shirt. The open collar showed off a slice of his chest-injured or not, the muscle definition was still damn impressive.
He lit a cigarette, exhaling a swirl of smoke, his voice husky and a little rough around the edges.
"She's really okay?" "She's fine." Chris peeled off his gloves, then changed the subject. "Shouldn't you go check on her?" Rupert stubbed out the cigarette and left the room.
*** Kitchen.
Sylvia stood at the counter, totally focused on slicing potatoes too absorbed to notice Rupert leaning against the doorfrbehind her.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHe watched her in silence.
Her apron was a little loose, but the fitted t-shirt underneath hugged her curves. The apron strings tied at her waist, accentuating her hips and the gentle curve of her back.
Even the most ordinary movements looked irresistible on her.
Rupert's imagination ran wild. He couldn't shake the feeling that he and Sylvia had done something here before -memories flashing through his mind: her in that apron, hair a mess, nails digging into his back, her soft moans filling his ears.
For the first time, Rupert wondered if maybe he was actually a bit depraved. Before he could get a grip, his hands moved on their own, settling on Sylvia's shoulders just like in his memory.
She jumped, the knife wobbling in her grip. "Mr. Rupert, what are you-?" "Planning on murdering your husband?" Rupert shot back, almost without thinking.
Silence fell over the kitchen.
Sylvia didn't snap at him like usual.
She just looked Own at the said half-chopped potatoes and softly, "You're not." Content Belongs Not yet, anyway. Soon, he'd belong to someone else.
Rupert didn't argue. If anything, he seemed to confirm it with his silence.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Sylvia's ehife slipped, s in uneven chun cuttShane but not to care, Suddenly, Rupert took the knife from her hand.
"Planning to turn potato sticks into potato bricks?" "If you don't like it, you do it yourself," Sylvia shot back, turning around.
But when she faced him, she found herself staring at his bare chest, the black shirt open to reveal strong, sculpted lines, the fabric clinging to his body in all the right places.
Sylvia's mind blanked. The heat radiating off him was overwhelming, making her cheeks flush.
She tried to turn away, but Rupert just picked her up and set her on the counter.
He leaned in, eyes dark and intense, his breath warm and tinged with smoke against her skin. Before she could react, he kissed her-hungry, insistent, his hands anything but innocent. One hand steadied her waist, the other slipped along the edge of her apron....
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThe moment sent Sylvia reeling, flashes of another life, another kitchen, flooding her mind. Her cheeks flamed red as she quickly caught his wandering hand under the apron.
Rupert took in her flushed face, a half-smile on his lips. "Didn't know" you had a dirty imagination, too." "Too?" Sylvia shot him a suspicious look.
A rare hint of awkwardness crossed Rupert's face.
Dining room.
Chris dug around in his bag, found two packs of snacks, and tossed one to Orson.
Munching away, he grumbled, "Orson, you think this dinner's gonna turn into amidnight snack at this rate?"
Orson, always the straight man, m replied, "Given Mr. Rupent's track record, I'd bet on breakfast instead." Chris snorted. Honestly, Orson, sthings don't need an answer.
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