Here’s a revised version of the chapter that keeps a balanced tone, focusing more on the emotional tension and internal conflicts while toning down explicit details:
Chapter 26
Joycelyn was utterly exhausted.
“Call me ‘honey,’” Ellison said, his voice firm yet soft, the request simple but insistent.
Joycelyn bit her lip, a soft sound escaping her, almost imperceptible.
“Good girl. If it feels right, just say it. There’s no need to hold back,” Ellison murmured, his lips brushing lightly against her neck. He could see the flushed expression on her face in the mirror, the dazed, almost vulnerable look that stirred something deeper within him.
“Ellison… Grant,” Joycelyn managed to say, her tone strained with resistance. She wanted to pull away, but she couldn’t. The scene of their closeness felt overwhelming, almost too much to bear.
“You’re calling me by my full name now?” Ellison’s voice was playful, yet there was an undeniable heat behind his words. He nipped at her shoulder, eliciting a soft cry from her.
Joycelyn’s breath hitched, and she closed her eyes, fighting the rush of emotions. “Stop, you’re bullying me,” she murmured, her voice breaking as she struggled to maintain composure. The mirror only intensified her shame.
Ellison’s eyes darkened slightly, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. “If you don’t call me, I’ll just have to be a little more persistent,” he whispered, his heart beginning to race.
It wasn’t about punishment. He wasn’t trying to dominate her. It was simply the way her body responded to him—something he couldn’t get enough of.
“Honey… I’m sorry,” Joycelyn gasped, her voice soft and delicate as she let herself melt into him. The warmth of her words was enough to make Ellison’s pulse quicken.
He knew how fragile and sensitive she was, and yet, in that moment, it was as if he couldn’t control the pull she had on him.
Joycelyn leaned into his shoulder, her eyes fluttering closed. Her body felt heavy, too weak to move.
“It’s not over yet. Let’s go to the bed,” Ellison said, easing the tension between them as he guided her.
Once they reached the bed, Ellison handed her a glass of water, his touch gentle, but his eyes were still intense, hungry for more of her.
Ellison was relentless, but it wasn’t out of malice. It was because every time she called him “honey,” something inside him just snapped. The intensity built up each time, and the air between them felt thick with heat.
By morning, Joycelyn felt completely drained, physically and emotionally.
“I’m never drinking again,” she muttered weakly, her hand trying to rise in a mock oath, but her exhaustion prevented her from even lifting it fully.
The office buzzed with rumors as Joycelyn’s name became a topic of whispered gossip. She wasn’t one to pay attention to the company-wide chat, but when she scrolled through it, she saw how quickly the rumors had spread.
“Joycelyn, have you seen the company chat? Selene says Mr. Crows is pursuing you,” one message read.
Aurelia, ever the protective friend, stepped in. “I was at the dinner last night too, but I didn’t see anything between them. In fact, if anything, Mr. Crows seemed more interested in Ms. Lome.”
But Linda, from her hospital bed, stoked the flames with her message. “Joycelyn had been drinking last night. Halfway through the event, Mr. Crows gave her a ride home. They left early, and then they signed the contract quickly. It’s obvious that Joycelyn played a part in that—with her charm.”
The message sent a ripple of gossip through the chat. Joycelyn felt her blood boil as she read Linda’s words. It was clear she was trying to twist the truth, making it sound as if there was something inappropriate between her and Tommy.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Joycelyn calmly replied, “Aurelia, could you please distribute the flowers to everyone?”
“Sure,” Aurelia and Selene quickly offered their help.
With her composure intact, Joycelyn stood up, picking up the bouquet of 52 roses that had been arranged for the occasion. She walked to Linda’s office, her steps measured, and carefully placed the flowers next to Linda’s professional photo on her desk. Then, she took a picture, ensuring everything looked pristine.
It wasn’t about responding to the rumors directly. It was about making a statement in her own way—one that didn’t require words, just actions.
