Chapter 95
“Rub my temples, will you?”
His voice was a mospy whisper
Megen set down her novel, not bothering with a spat. She leaned over to massage him, a gesture of care she had once leamed to ease his burdens after long days at the office
But the moment she touched him, her brow furrowed slightly. “Sullivan, you’re having a fever!”
Sullivan’s eyes fluttered open
Sick as he was, his normally bright gaze was dulled.
His hand suddenly slid up her skirt, intent on igniting a familiar passion.
She caught his wandering hand, halting its advance.
Sullivan rarely fell ill, but when he did, his temper frayed. Megan used to indulge him, pampering him, and sometimes even playing along with his whims.
His discomfort coupled with unfulfilled desires only soured his mood. His eyes fixed on Megan, “What’s the matter? Don’t feel like taking care of me?”
She moved
ed to straddle him. Reaching for the first–aid kit, she took his temperature in this compromising position.
Sure enough, he was at 102 degrees.
She didn’t argue with the patient, Tm going to get you some medicine. Sullivan, you really shouldn’t be doing this right now.”
Sullivan persisted, his eyes tracing her as he teased. His gaze was both sensual and lewd.
After a moment, he lazily withdrew his hand and reclined against the couch, seemingly in agreement.
Megan stood, straightening her skirt, mindful not to signal anything amiss to the household staff.
Sullivan, ever the man, cared little, but she had to maintain a certain decorum. Otherwise, the staff might gossip.
Watching her cautious movements, Sullivan couldn’t help but snort. “There’s no harm in a husband and wife enjoying an afternoon delight. The housekeepers are all quite old; they won’t bat an eye!”
But Megan did care about those, though she didn’t retort.
She went downstairs for his medicine, had the help prepare a soup, and brought it all back up.
As evening turned to night, and the last light was swallowed by darkness, the bedroom was shrouded in shadows.
When Megan flicked on the light, Sullivan stirred awake.
Feverish and groggy, he only felt the gentle touch as Megan helped him drink. Her body was soft against his, and he couldn’t help but respond, guiding her hand toward his belt.
His voice was rough with discontent
“The soup isn’t your brew, Megan. You used to make it for me yourself!”
“In the past, you wouldn’t have refused mol”
In the past, even if not going all the way, she’d have helped him find release
But Megan wouldn’t yield, pushing against him, “Sullivan, you’re sick!”
His expression chilled. He watched her, then let out a cold laugh, “I was sick in the past too, but you didn’t treat me like this!”
Megan’s voice was steady, “That was the past!”
The tension in the room thickened.
Sullivan sat up slightly, reaching for a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand, lighting one up. As the smoke curled up, he watched her quietly, “So, Megan, is it because you don’t love me anymore that you can’t even bother with me? Is that it?”
He threw a photograph in front of her, it was her with Luke, though only his back was in the frame.
Sullivan’s voice was detached, “You’re all smiles with someone else, but with me, you couldn’t care less. Mrs. Lowry, would you mind telling me who he is?”
Megan was incredulous, “You’ve had someone following me?”
Sullivan didn’t answer. His slender fingers pinched the cigarette, taking a harsh drag before snuffing it out.
10:08
He pulled her close before she could fice.
Sullivan pinned her arms with one hand, the other slipping under her silk nightgown as he klased her, whispering filthy things. “Last time of the club, you said there was no one else you like! Min. Lowry, when you start moaning in pleasure, you’d dare to get as dirty as it can be with your words, let alone a simple ‘like‘
Megan froze for a moment.
Then, she began to struggle fiercely. Sullivan had lost it! She didn’t want this, not of all…
