CHAPTER 11: CHAPTER 11: IS THAT ENOUGH

For the past two years, Katherine Rhodes knew full well that Jenson never came home, yet she still forced Zinnia Lawrence to drink plenty of bitter medicinal brews meant to aid conception, purely to torment her. Zinnia Lawrence loved Jenson and wanted to maintain a good marriage and relationship with her mother-in-law, so she stoically endured it.

Now that Jenson was the one being forced to drink the soup, Zinnia felt no sympathy whatsoever.

She turned her head away, pretending not to see.

Jenson was immediately shot a "you useless thing" glare from Grandma Forrest.

Jenson chuckled. "Alright, Grandma, I’ll drink it right now. I promise not a single drop will go to waste, so your kindness isn’t spoiled."

Although he spoke to the old woman, his gaze never left Zinnia, and the slight stress he put on his last words was heavy with unspoken meaning.

A chill ran down Zinnia’s spine under his stare, and it struck her that Jenson and Katherine Rhodes were truly mother and son. Caught between their two gazes, she felt as if she were trapped between ice and fire; the meal was tasteless to her.

That evening, Jenson pushed open the bedroom door to see Zinnia standing before the wardrobe.

The woman slammed the door shut with a bang, looking utterly startled.

Jenson’s eyes narrowed as he strode toward her.

"Hiding a lover in there?"

He reached for the handle, but Zinnia slapped her hand over it in a panic. "Don’t open it!"

Her jumpy reaction only made it seem more likely that a secret lover was indeed hidden inside.

Jenson applied a bit of force. Her resistance was as futile as an ant trying to shake a tree. The wardrobe door swung open, revealing the contents...

A colorful assortment of skimpy lingerie, pajamas, and unexpectedly, some racy costumes.

Zinnia’s face flushed. "I didn’t buy these!"

She had clothes at the old mansion before, so she was surprised to find all her proper outfits had vanished from the wardrobe on this visit. As she spoke, she tried to shut the door again, but Jenson held it open.

"Not taking anything with you? Are you planning to run out naked after your shower, or do you want me to bring you something while you’re in there? Quite the little schemer, aren’t you?"

Zinnia was exasperated. "I’ll go look for my old clothes."

How had she never realized Jenson had such a wild imagination?

Jenson placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Naive. You really think you’ll be able to find them?"

The clothes had likely been prepared by Grandma Forrest, who must have arranged things so that Zinnia wouldn’t be able to find anything else to wear.

Annoyed, Zinnia glared at Jenson.

How useless must he be for his grandmother to go to such lengths at her age?

Jenson probably guessed what she was thinking. His handsome face turned cold, his deep eyes calm and indifferent as his thin lips delivered the heartless words.

"Just pick one. It’s all the same to me what you wear."

He might as well have had "I’m not interested in you" written across his face.

Zinnia casually grabbed the garment with the most fabric. "This is the first time I’ve heard someone say they’re blind in such a roundabout way."

She shoved the shameless man aside and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly behind her to vent her frustration.

After showering and changing, Zinnia looked at her reflection and frowned. The outfit she’d chosen, while having the most fabric, turned out to be a nurse’s uniform.

Well, the important parts were covered. Besides, clothes like this are only lewd in the eye of the beholder. With Jenson’s heart of stone, what did she have to fear?

Jenson is asexual. Jenson is asexual. Jenson is asexual. Zinnia silently chanted three times, instantly feeling a protective aura of righteousness surround her. She pushed the door open and walked out.

Jenson was leaning against the headboard, tapping away at emails on his tablet. He glanced up casually, and the knuckles of the hand gripping the tablet whitened, a rugged curve forming silently.

The white nurse’s uniform was modest up top but clung to her tightly, cinching at the waist and leaving her exquisite curves on full display. The skirt, however, was incredibly short. Zinnia was a striking beauty to begin with—with her dark hair, red lips, and delicate, radiant features. As a long-time dancer, she had an excellent figure, unreal proportions, and a pristine aura.

In that skirt, she was breathtaking.

A burning sensation rose in Jenson’s throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed twice, almost imperceptibly, before he abruptly tore his gaze away.

He set the tablet down.

"I’m going to take a shower. You can go to sleep first."

Despite her mental pep talk, Zinnia hadn’t dared to look up when she first came out. Hearing his voice, she raised her head just in time to see him brush past her and enter the bathroom, his expression completely unruffled.

Asexual? More like completely impotent!

A low rumble of thunder sounded outside. Zinnia scurried to the bed, threw back the covers, and slipped in.

The bathroom filled with steam. Jenson closed his eyes, trying to even his breathing, but the light scent of gardenia, carried on the water vapor, drilled into his nostrils.

It was Zinnia’s scent; she always used gardenia-scented body wash. Faint wisps of it tugged at his heartstrings.

Jenson suddenly threw his head back.

Damn it! What the hell did Grandma give me to drink? My nose is bleeding like I have a terminal illness!

Lying in bed, Zinnia picked up her phone. The thought of Winston Forrest’s room being cleaned reminded her to look him up online. A flood of news articles instantly popped up.

#Celestia’s Genius Racer#

#The High-Flying Life of the First F1 Driver#

#Asia’s Most Promising Racer#

#Winston Forrest, 23, Who Scored a Milestone Point in His F1 Season Debut, Prepares to Return Home#

Zinnia’s lips curled into a smile as she read, her eyes shining with pride, joy, and a touch of envy and longing.

It wasn’t until she heard a noise from the bathroom that she frantically flipped her phone face down on the nightstand and pulled the covers up, feigning sleep.

Jenson walked toward the bed, toweling his hair. He saw the light from the phone and reached over to turn it off. His hand froze when he happened to see the content on the webpage.

The man glanced at the woman on the bed, her eyes squeezed shut. His expression was unreadable.

Zinnia kept her eyes closed, her body rigid. He definitely knows I’m faking it.

Just as she, annoyed, was about to open her eyes, the man didn’t call her out. He put down the phone and seemed to walk over to the balcony. Zinnia peeked open her eyes and saw his blurred silhouette leaning against the railing. The wild wind whipped his bathrobe around him, and a small red ember glowed at his fingertips.

He’s smoking outside with all this lightning and thunder? Since when did his addiction get so bad?

She didn’t dwell on it. She hadn’t slept well the past few nights, and after a full day of classes, she was exhausted. She soon drifted into a hazy sleep.

The mattress dipped behind her, but she paid it no mind.

After all, they had been married for two years. Even on the rare occasions Jenson came home, he would always go to another room to sleep after they were finished. Tonight, Grandma Forrest’s watchful eye was forcing them to sleep together, but Zinnia knew her place. They would surely keep to their own sides.

But just as she was about to sink back into darkness, a pair of strong, hard arms suddenly wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her back in a gentle motion.

Zinnia was pressed against his warm chest. Through the thin fabric of their clothes, she could clearly feel the searing heat of his body and the firm, taut lines of his muscles.

He took off his robe.

The man’s deep, slightly rough breaths fanned against her ear. "Asleep?"

Another clap of thunder roared, and the wind howled outside, but the temperature inside the room was rising rapidly.

Zinnia was instantly wide awake, her heart pounding as loud as the thunder.

As she lay there, frozen and unsure what to do, the man pressed closer.

BOOM. Zinnia’s mind went blank.

"Jenson, you..." she began, her body stiff and her voice trembling slightly.

The man’s thin lips lingered on the delicate skin behind her ear. "What are you so nervous about?"

Zinnia tilted her neck, trying to avoid his scorching breath.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

Her small, evasive movement was strangely endearing, like a proud little cat refusing to be petted.

Jenson’s lips parted slightly, his mouth tracing the sensitive skin behind her ear as he spoke in a voice gone impossibly hoarse.

"When they were pouring that potent soup down my throat, did you not know what Grandma intended?"

Zinnia bristled. "I only kept quiet because I figured you were practically a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle when it comes to resisting temptation!"

In the first year of their marriage, he hadn’t touched her. Zinnia had been lost, trying every shameless trick in the book to seduce him. But she could parade around in skimpy outfits right in front of him, and he would act like she was invisible. Once, she even stumbled into his arms, her bath towel falling off and leaving her completely bare against him, but he remained as composed as a Zen master, even asking if she needed a glass of iced water to cool down.

Other men developed a taste for it after their first time, but even after breaking his celibacy, he had barely touched her this past year. If it weren’t for the few times they did sleep together—which were marathon sessions that went far beyond a normal count—she would have suspected he had a problem in that department. With his level of restraint, he was Viagra’s kryptonite; Grandma’s little tonic wouldn’t make a dent.

"A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle? Heh. It would be a shame not to do something, since you think so highly of me!"

As his voice fell, he flipped over and pinned Zinnia beneath him, his intense masculine scent engulfing her completely.

Zinnia threw her hands up in a panic. "No! I don’t want to!"

"No? Weren’t you the one who filed for divorce, accusing me of not satisfying you? Fine. Starting today, we’ll make up for lost time. How does four times a night sound?"

Jenson forcibly tore open her neckline.

A flash of lightning split the sky, illuminating her small face. Paler than a sheet, her delicate features were drained of all color, making her large, limpid eyes appear especially pitiful and full of fright.

She truly didn’t want this.