Chapter 89
Just moments ago, in front of Isolde, Joycelyn had affectionately called him “husband.” Now, behind his back, she was addressing him formally as “Mr. Grant.”
Ellison’s jawline tightened, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of irritation. His face remained impassive, but anyone could see the subtle clenching of his jaw and the faint rise of his cheekbones—his restraint only deepening the tension.
“Why are you looking at me like you’re about to devour me?” Joycelyn said, trying to break the awkward silence. “We agreed on getting married, not having kids,” she added with a touch of humor to mask her unease.
It wasn’t that Joycelyn didn’t like kids—on the contrary, she genuinely did. But their marriage was still a bit unconventional, built more on practicality than deep emotion. She worried that bringing a child into the mix might not provide the warmth and stability they deserved.
Ellison scoffed. “Mrs. Grant, with your acting skills, I should open a company and cast you as the lead. By the end of the year, you might even win Best Actress at the awards.”
Joycelyn glanced at him, annoyed, as she buckled her seatbelt. Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but a small chuckle escaped her lips at the sight of him acting so gruff.
Ellison’s sharp words contrasted with his cold, aloof demeanor.
“It’s not that I’m afraid you won’t raise the child well,” Joycelyn began, trying to stay composed. “With your resources, I’m sure you’d provide a good life for them. But you’re so busy…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish.
“Can you really be the father who sets the right example? Will you have time to be there for the child? Babies don’t just grow well on their own, and I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
Ellison’s expression softened slightly. He understood her concern. “Then, if I can do what you’re asking, would you be willing?” he asked, his voice steady and sincere.
Joycelyn blinked, caught off guard by his willingness to accommodate her. A soft expression crossed her face. She hadn’t expected him to be so understanding.
When she didn’t respond immediately, Ellison let out a soft chuckle. “Ha, women,” he muttered, clearly seeing through her hesitation.
Joycelyn couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, a mixture of flustered and intrigued by his insight. She turned her gaze out the window, trying to mask her emotions.
Ellison smirked. “Would rather raise a dog than have anything to do with me, huh?” he said coldly, his tone sharp, but his words barely masked his frustration.
His mood had clearly shifted, but he still played the role of her chauffeur, an act of restraint as he drove them back home.
“If you really feel that way, there’s nothing I can do,” Joycelyn replied, her voice quieter now, unsure of what else to say. She decided to give up on the conversation, feeling the weight of his emotions settle in the car between them.
Joycelyn didn’t understand why someone like Ellison—powerful and composed—would let something like this get to him. She wanted to laugh but didn’t dare; she was afraid it might set him off even more.
Just as she was about to glance back out the window, she heard a slight click. Her head turned instinctively, wondering, ‘Is he really angry?’
Before she could react, Ellison’s large hand grabbed her chin, pulling her face back toward him.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice startled as she tried to free herself from his grip.
Ellison’s eyes were dark, and his voice was low as he spoke. “Not happy? Kiss me to let off some steam,” he said, his grip firm as he tilted her head back.
Without warning, he kissed her—a deep, passionate kiss that took her completely by surprise.
Joycelyn’s eyes widened as Ellison didn’t close his eyes, locking her gaze with his. His eyes were intense, commanding, and she felt as though she was being pulled deeper into the kiss. His tongue gently pressed against hers, urging her to respond.
She gasped, instinctively pushing him away, but Ellison didn’t budge. He pinned her against the seat, his kiss becoming more fierce, more demanding.
Outside the car, pedestrians passed by, but Ellison seemed completely indifferent, lost in the moment.
Joycelyn felt her face burn with heat, almost suffocating from the intensity. The kiss lasted until she was breathless, her body hot and disoriented. Only then did he pull back, his thumb brushing over her swollen lips, wiping away a strand of silver.
“Still can’t kiss properly after all this time,” he teased with a sly smile. “Silly.”
Joycelyn, breathless and stunned, stared at him, her face flushed and her eyes misty. She didn’t know how to respond.
Ellison fastened her seatbelt, his actions mechanical, and then hit the gas to drive them home.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop of a nearby building, Leah stood talking on the phone when she happened to catch sight of them through the car’s tinted windows. The kiss was clear even from a distance, and the image of Ellison kissing Joycelyn made her body heat up with desire. She imagined herself in Joycelyn’s place, kissed by him, and her thoughts quickly spiraled.
She watched as the car disappeared from view, her mind already racing. After a moment, she pulled out her phone and dialed her brother.
“Kingston, I think Isolde’s recovery is going well. Do you think we can take her home soon? I could stay at the house and take care of her,” she said with a practiced sweetness in her tone.
Back in the car, Joycelyn cracked the window open, hoping to clear the steamy atmosphere. The cool air did little to calm her racing heart, and she stared out at the darkening sky, trying to regain some composure.
She had expected that after the half-hour drive, Ellison would leave her be. But as soon as they reached the house, Ellison unbuckled his seatbelt and, without a word, helped her do the same.
Just when she thought he might be being gentlemanly, the seat reclined, and she was lying flat on her back.
“Hey!” she tried to sit up, but before she could, Ellison moved. Sliding from the driver’s seat, he hovered over her, his body pressing hers into the luxurious leather.
Her small frame fit comfortably in the spacious seat, but with Ellison next to her, she couldn’t move an inch.
“What are you doing? I need to get out!” Joycelyn’s voice held a note of panic.
Ellison braced himself with one arm, locking eyes with her. His voice was rough with desire. “What?” she asked, her heart racing.
“That’s not what I meant,” Ellison murmured, a predatory grin creeping onto his face as he shifted closer. “I’ve been holding it in for days… it’s unbearable.”
Joycelyn’s heart skipped a beat. She blinked in confusion. “You… you’re not thinking of doing it here, are you?”
Despite the villa being empty, her sense of embarrassment made her feel exposed, vulnerable in the confined space.
Ellison sighed, his grin widening, and pressed his body closer to hers. “Yes.”
Joycelyn’s face turned bright red. “Can we at least go inside?” she stammered, unable to meet his intense gaze.
Ellison leaned closer, his voice colder now. “So, your period ended already, huh? You were just pretending, weren’t you?”
Joycelyn’s heart raced. She realized too late that he was testing her.
“Wait… no, it’s not like that!” she stammered, panic creeping into her voice. “You’re… you’re too heavy—I can’t breathe.”
Ellison, unfazed, simply said, “Today, I’ll give you a chance to be on top.”
With that, he opened the car door, stepping out with a sly grin.
“Come on, if you want to try something in the car, I can always open the sunroof,” he teased, his voice husky with dark amusement.
