My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage - Chapter 142

Chapter 142:

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However, the lingering shadow of their unresolved issues, coupled with the frequent remarks about how well-matched she and Asher seemed, unsettled him once more. Even though Kristopher understood that Carrie saw Asher merely as a sibling figure, he couldn’t quell the gnawing suspicion that perhaps one day, someone who meshed seamlessly with her true essence would emerge. Since they had exchanged vows, Carrie had increasingly become an emblem of ownership to Kristopher, portrayed in the devotion in her eyes, which seemed to declare her as uniquely his.

Nevertheless, Carrie had blossomed into a dazzling, autonomous force, her presence lighting up rooms, increasingly disconnected from Kristopher’s shadow. Annoyance prickled at his nerves. Kristopher snapped his head dismissively and strode toward the sanctuary of the bathroom, aiming to drown his frustrations under the steady cascade of a shower.

Half an hour later, even as Kristopher dried his hair, the chill of the shower couldn’t extinguish the warmth coursing through him. The evidence of his arousal refused to fade. As he mechanically pushed open the bathroom door, he stopped short.

The room, once bathed in clarity, now lay in subdued twilight, illuminated only by the dim whisper of a wall lamp. His scattered thoughts sharpened instantly. The corporate world was a ruthless game, and he had long since learned to recognize the dangerous ploys and cunning tricks that came with it.

He scanned the room with a measured gaze, finding it deceptively calm at first. Yet, his eyes froze on a darkened corner where a graceful figure sat silently on his bed. Relief momentarily washed over him—it was only a woman, seemingly harmless.

The image of the earlier dinner bubbled up in his mind, nudging him to conjecture that she could be an ill-conceived overture from a clueless corporate executive. “Leave this place now!” he commanded, his voice echoing as he reached for the light switch.

“Mr. Norris, please, it’s me.” The reply came in a soft, uncertain tone, almost pleading.

gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s․c𝓸𝗆 brings imagination alive

As the room brightened, Aspyn awkwardly climbed off the bed, clutching her chest with crossed arms in embarrassment.

Her outfit, a scant sailor dress, clung to her form, its delicate material leaving little to the imagination. A flush crept up Aspyn’s cheeks as she lowered her gaze, though she stole timid glances at Kristopher.

Kristopher stood imposingly, his upper body bare, a towel slung low around his hips.

Droplets of water meandered down from his damp hair, skimming over his chiseled chest and along the defined lines of his abs, eventually getting absorbed by the fabric of his towel.

The evident bulge under his towel sent a thrilling pulse through Aspyn, warming her from within.

She barely noticed the storm brewing in Kristopher’s eyes, her focus locked on one electrifying thought: the way he looked at her, the tension in his stance—it was clear he couldn’t hide his arousal.

Kristopher’s brows furrowed in a frown as he grabbed the robe, sliding it over his shoulders.

Aspyn’s gaze held a provocative charge, so palpable that it seemed to fill the air with a sultry tension.

He strolled over to the sofa, gracefully sinking into its plush embrace, and took a measured gulp of water—a silent plea for her to recognize her cue to leave.

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