Chapter 93
Chapter 93:
Jocelyn found herself kissing him back, her hands sliding up to his neck, her fingers digging into his hair. A moan vibrated in her throat.
Grandma watched, her eyes widening. Her hand went to her mouth. Then, slowly, a blush crept up her cheeks and she looked away toward the window.
Gaston finally pulled back — but not far. He rested his forehead against Jocelyn’s. They were both panting.
His eyes were blown wide, pupils dilated. He looked wrecked.
“Does that feel fake to you, Grandma?” Gaston asked. His voice was husky, rougher than sandpaper.
Grandma fanned herself with a tissue. “Well. I suppose… acting doesn’t usually involve that much tongue p>
Jocelyn’s face was bright red. She couldn’t speak. Her lips were swollen and tingling.
Gaston turned his head to look at the old woman, keeping one arm firmly around Jocelyn.
𝗝о𝗶ո 𝘁𝗁e 𝘤𝗈𝗺𝗺𝘶𝗇𝗂𝘵𝘆 𝖺𝘁
“I love her, Mrs. Wolfe,” he declared. “I worship the ground she walks on. I would burn this city to the ground if she asked for a light p>
Grandma sighed. The tension left her shoulders. She looked at Gaston — really looked at him — and saw the ferocity in his stance.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. I believe you p>
She pointed a shaking finger at him. “Just… treat her right. She’s fragile right now p>
“She’s the strongest person I know,” Gaston corrected. “But I will protect her. With my life p>
He looked back at Jocelyn. “We should go. She’s burning up with a fever.” He placed his hand on her forehead. “You’re boiling p>
“I’m fine,” Jocelyn squeaked. Her voice was an octave higher than usual.
“You’re not.” He turned to Grandma. “I’m taking her home. I’ll have extra security posted at your door. Elouise won’t get within a hundred feet of this room again p>
“Thank you, Gaston,” Grandma said. She smiled tiredly. “Go. Take care of my girl p>
Gaston guided Jocelyn out of the room. As they walked down the hallway, Jocelyn moved in a daze. She touched her lips. They still felt hot.
“That was…” she started, but the words failed her.
Gaston didn’t look at her. His jaw was set tight. “We needed to be convincing p>
“Right,” Jocelyn whispered. “Convincing p>
But as they stepped into the elevator, she noticed his hand — clenched into a fist at his side, trembling slightly.
Gaston practically carried her to the car. The adrenaline of the confrontation was fading, leaving Jocelyn crashing hard. The fever was making the world swim.
He helped her into the passenger seat of the Aston Martin. “Seatbelt,” he ordered softly.
She fumbled with the buckle. He pushed her hands away and did it for her.
He got in and started the engine. The silence in the car was thick, heavy with the memory of the kiss.
“That was… effective,” Jocelyn croaked, staring out the window.
“I aim to please,” Gaston replied, gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. He wanted to ask, Did you like it? Did you feel it? But he held back. She was sick. She was vulnerable.