CHAPTER 42: BEATRICE’S HONEY TRAP

After meeting with his family, rather than going straight to the company, Andrew went back to his house to freshen up.

As soon as he entered the house, his gaze went straight to the kitchen, the same place where he used to find Elara most of the time when he used to come earlier because of some work.

The aroma of food caught his attention, and he walked into the kitchen with a hint of urgency.

"I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away for long and would come back after some—" Andrew stopped talking when he didn’t see Elara standing near the stove.

Instead, it was Beatrice with an apron on.

Beatrice turned with an embarrassed smile.

"I am not the one you expected to see, right?" she asked with an understanding smile.

Andrew shook his head before loosening his tie.

"That’s not it. I met Elara in the studio today and thought she was back after making such big claims," Andrew scoffed inwardly.

"What claims?" Beatrice asked.

Andrew didn’t answer. Rather, he turned around, ready to ascend the stairs, and her expression turned a little sour.

"I just wanted to cook something for you before leaving," she said, her words catching the man’s attention.

"Leaving?" Andrew stopped mid-step.

"Back to my apartment. I know it’s a long journey from there, but I don’t want to stay in a place I am not welcome at," Beatrice said with a self-righteous smile, looking at Andrew with the defiant charm of a proud lady.

The man furrowed his brows. He didn’t know what she was exactly talking about. She wasn’t welcomed here? Who said that?

"What do you mean? Did someone say anything?" He asked, wondering whether Elara had actually shown up here and said something to Beatrice to change her mind.

After all, hadn’t she asked him where he was that night? She had seen the tabloids, too. Maybe she was upset about Beatrice living here, and that was why... If that were the case, that would make sense and...

Beatrice shook her head.

"I can see it, Andrew," Beatrice said, snapping Andrew out of his thoughts, her expression solemn.

"Though you were the one who invited me here, I can see that you are uncomfortable around me. You haven’t slept even a single night at home since I came. I don’t want you to feel weird because of me," Beatrice said, her eyes tearing up, and she sniffed.

"I never thought there would be a day when my presence would make you run away from home," Beatrice added, wiping her cheeks.

Andrew’s gaze softened, and he descended the stairs to walk to her.

"Hey, don’t think like that. It’s not because of you. Why would I feel wary around you? You are... very special to me. It’s just that the situation is not good. Even today, Carla’s case will keep me awake the entire night." Andrew massaged his forehead in annoyance.

"What happened?" Beatrice stepped forward, her foot entangling with the other one, making her stumble back.

Andrew was quick on his feet and quickly rushed forward to hold her hand, saving her from the fall.

He pulled her with a force, afraid that a little strain on her foot would make her healing worse, not realizing the strength he put in it.

The strong pull made Beatrice’s step forward with a jerk, pressing her breasts against Andrew’s chest.

Beatrice gasped, looking into Andrew’s eyes with wide eyes as her heart skipped a beat.

Seeing Beatrice standing so close to him, and her bosoms pressed against his, like any other man, he felt a reaction down there and couldn’t help but clear his throat.

He let go of her not to make the situation weirder, and Beatrice, who wasn’t holding onto him, fell on her butt.

"Andrew!" Beatrice raised her voice, and the man gulped.

"I am sorry. It’s just—" He shook his head and bent to pick her up bridal style to take her to her guest room.

Beatrice, on the other hand, smirked as she looked at his side profile.

She could make it stand for her so easily. Will she really need to try something hard to seduce him?

"What happened at the studio? You said you met Elara," Beatrice asked him, wanting to be in his embrace a little longer.

Just like she had guessed, rather than putting her down immediately, the man sat at the edge of the bed with her in his arms and told her what had happened.

Beatrice nodded in understanding, adding her points in between, and it wasn’t until Beatrice felt a little sour and shifted, sitting right above his crotch, making it feel alive, that the man noticed how inappropriate he was being.

"You should rest. And don’t worry about me. I am just worried because of Carla. That’s it," Andrew said and left the room to take a cold shower.

Beatrice tilted her head as she looked at the back of the man leaving.

How predictable you are, Andrew. You are seriously the easiest to manipulate. Beatrice smiled inwardly before sighing and looking at the bed.

She went ahead and closed the door, leaving it a little open, just enough for anyone to peek.

Rather than resting, she leaned backwards, sinking her head into the pillows and cushions, spreading her legs as she imagined Andrew sucking her pussy.

She swallowed hard and touched herself hard, whimpering softly.

Andrew, who wanted to ask her to schedule his afternoon meeting for another day because he needed to attend the stakeholders’ meeting, stopped at the entrance when he saw what Beatrice was doing.

"Ohh," Beatrice whimpered, her hands under her pants, a clear depiction of what she was doing.

Andrew swallowed hard as the bulge in his pants tightened.

Wait. What the hell was he doing? He scolded himself for invading her privacy.

She was an adult and had needs too. Maybe she was doing this to feel less stressed. Besides, she didn’t even have a boyfriend to do it with. He told himself, justifying her actions as he left.

Beatrice, who had closed her eyes, looked at the door, a mischievous glint adorning her eyes. She knew he would return; they always do. She moaned with a satisfying smile as she came over her hands.

Sooner or later, you’ll be the one making me moan, Andrew. I promise you that. Beatrice said before she stood and walked to the bathroom, swaying her hips in victory, before washing her hands as she looked at her reflection.

"There’s no way Andrew would be able to deny this hot body," Beatrice said to herself confidently.