bChapter /bb344 /b

Jade’s POV:

The vi dining room was bright with morning light as Ethan and I stepped into the hallway, our breakfastplete.

Just as we approached the stair, Maxi emerged, its metallic body gleaming under the hallway lights. The robot turned toward me, its mechanical head tilting slightly.

“Good morning, Master,” it said in Ethan’s voice.

I narrowed my eyes dangerously. “Shut up,” I said coldly, brushing past the robot and heading toward the elevator.

Ethan followed quietly, keeping a careful distance between us. I could sense him trying not to provoke me further.

When we reached my room, I pushed the door open. Ethan hesitated at the threshold, uncertain if he should follow, but I turned and gave him an expectant look that left no room for question.

Once inside, I tossed my phone onto the side table and turned to face him, keeping my expression unreadable.

“Take it off,” Imanded without preamble.

Ethan blinked, confusion crossing his features. “Take what off?”

“Weren’t you the one who said robots are boring and I should y with you instead?” My tone was casual but carried an unmistakable edge. “What’s wrong? Getting cold feet?”

Understanding dawned on Ethan’s face. This was payback for his teasing earlier. He understood my vengeful nature well enough by now to recognize that thismand wasn’t an invitation to intimacy – it was pure retaliation. Still, I noticed a slight flutter of anticipation in

his eyes.

“Should I lock the door?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

I raised an eyebrow. “What are you waiting for?”

Ethan walked back to the door and turned the deadbolt, the click echoing in the quiet room. He hesitated, clearly considering the possibility that Night might decide to pay a surprise visit. Better safe than sorry. He turned back to face me as I took a seat on the edge of the couch, watching him with calcted disinterest.

“Should I?” he asked again, gesturing vaguely at his clothes.

I gave a slight nod, never taking my eyes off his face.

Ethan swallowed hard, whether from nervousness or anticipation, I couldn’t tell. Under my unwavering gaze, he removed his suit jacket first, carefully draping it over the back of a chair. His movements were deliberate, almost ceremonial, as he moved to his shirt cuffs next, unfastening each one with practiced ease.

With the cuffs undone, his hands traveled upward to his cor. He paused at the top button, fingers hovering uncertainly.

“Are you sure?” he asked, onest attempt at confirmation.

b89 /b

My only response was a pointed look. fn246e Original content can be found at find?novel/fn246e

Ethan’s breath quickened as he began unfastening the buttons of his shirt. His long fingers worked methodically down the row of buttons.

“If you’re trying to teach me a lesson, I’mpletely willing to face the consequences of my inappropriate remarks, he said quietly. “But I have one request – don’t make me lose face in front of Night and Chris.”

“Inappropriate remarks?” I echoed. “Which ones exactly?”

Ethan didn’t hesitate, his survival instinct kicking in. “Any that you didn’t like. Anything that upset you.”

I let out a cold snort but said nothing more.

As Ethan reached thest button, he carefully pulled the shirt free from his waistband and slid it off his shoulders. He stood before me, bare–chested, his physique impressive the result of regr workouts despite his busy schedule.

My eyes traveled over his torso, taking in the defined muscles of his chest and the ridges of his abdomen. I kept my expression neutral, though I couldn’t help but appreciate what I saw.

“Lie down,” I instructed, pointing to the sofa. “On your stomach.”

Ethan’s brow furrowed slightly, but heplied, stretching out on the sofa with his face turned to the side. I sat beside him, feeling the cushion dip under my weight, and ced my hands on his back – not gentle or sensual, but firm and almost clinical.

I began to massage his shoulders, my thumbs digging into the knots with all my strength. Ethan winced as I hit a particrly tense spot.

“Jesus,” he hissed. “Are you massaging me or trying to break my shoulder de?”

“Does it hurt?” I asked, though my tone suggested I already knew the answer.

“What do you think?” Ethan muttered into the cushion.

My hands continued their punishing rhythm. “Is an apology forting yet?”

Ethan turned his head slightly. “Would it help?”

“Try me and find out.”

“I’m sorry,” he offered immediately.

“That’s it?” My thumb pressed into a sensitive spot between his shoulder des.

Ethan began to turn, clearly intending to do more than talk, but I pressed my hand firmly on his back.

“Don’t move,” Imanded.

He settled back down with a sigh. “I won’t be so quick with my smart remarks next time,” he said, his voice softening. “Keep going if it makes you feel better.”

b11:30 /bbSat/bb, /bbOct /bb4 /b

420

bI /bcaught his eye and felt the corner of my mouth curl up slightly. I could tell he was bracing himself for at least thirty more minutes of this “torture, but after those first few punishing movements, I intentionally made my touch more measured, almost therapeutic.

“Turn over, I instructed after a while. “Let me do the front,‘

Ethanplied, shifting onto his back. From this position, he looked directly at my face as I worked, I focused on the task, aware of his eyes studying me intently.

Without warning, he leaned up suddenly, trying to catch my lips with his. I jerked back, narrowly avoiding the kiss.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“I thought I saw something on your face,” Ethan improvised quickly. “Just trying to help.”

“Mr. Haxton ns to clean it with your mouth?” My voice was dry with disbelief.

Ethan sighed, settling back down.

I gave him a long look before continuing the massage, my movements more deliberate now. After a few minutes offortable silence, I spoke again.

“You’ve been having trouble sleepingtely. Why is that?”

Ethan’s mood instantly brightened at my question. bI /bcould see the realization dawn on him that I had noticed his exhaustion.

“I’ve had some things on my mind,” he admitted. “But I haven’t been sleeping badly.”

I nced up at him. “Then why do you go to bed sote?”

Ethan didn’t answer immediately, just gave a soft chuckle.

I looked at him, confused. “What?”

“I stay upte watching you,” he said simply.

My brow furrowed. “Watching me?”

“Your photos,” he rified.

I raised my eyebrows slightly. “Mr. Haxton hasn’t been doing anything inappropriate with my photos, have you?”

Ethan, now more ustomed to my provocativements, didn’t flinch. “Would you like me to?” he countered smoothly.

Suddenly, the door handle rattled violently as someone tried to enter. Finding it locked, whoever was outside began pounding on the door with enough force to make the hinges shake.