Hitched & Hitched Again: A Comedy of Marital Mayhem novel Chapter 1225

“Who said I was taking a shower with you?!”

“I’m drunk, Elysia. I can’t do it by myself. You gotta come with me.”

Elysia flushed bright red, pretty sure she knew exactly what he was getting at. “If you can’t shower alone, then just skip it tonight!”

“No way. I feel gross.”

“I don’t care if you’re gross.”

“Well, I do.”

Elysia rolled her eyes. “Then sleep on the floor!”

“It’s cold down there. I’ll catch a cold.”

“Fine, then take the couch!”

“Sofa wrecks my back. It’s not healthy.”

She gave him a withering look. “Then sleep wherever you want. Just move, I’m going to bed.”

She tried to brush past him, but suddenly Tarquin pressed his entire body against her, pinning her to the door.

Their bodies were flush—no space left between them.

Through her pajamas, Elysia could hear the hammering of his heart—and feel the heat radiating off his skin.

Her own heart was picking up speed, her breathing coming quicker.

The room seemed to get ten degrees warmer in a heartbeat, charged with a sultry tension.

Elysia swallowed, lowering her voice in a warning. “Tarquin! Move it or I’ll start yelling.”

She had her reasons for not giving in.

He was always gentle with her—except in the bedroom, where he turned into a completely different person.

By day, he was a saint; by night, a wolf!

A wolf who hadn’t had a steak in about a century, by the way he acted.

And this whole “showering together” thing? No way. Way too embarrassing.

She almost wanted to retaliate and bite him right back to shock some sense into him, but then—footsteps sounded outside the door.

Elysia tensed up instantly.

Tarquin leaned into her ear, whispering threateningly, “If you don’t cooperate, I’ll yell and tell them you took advantage of me while I’m drunk.”

Elysia stared at him, scandalized. Was he even serious?!

She was about to curse him out when the footsteps stopped right outside.

“Ma’am, your hangover soup’s ready!” came the housekeeper’s voice.

Elysia panicked—but before she could reply, Tarquin covered her mouth in a deep, heated kiss.

Elysia wanted to shove him away, but didn’t dare make much noise—she could only let him have his way, feeling like a thief caught in the act.

With just a door between them and the housekeeper, there was something illicit and thrilling in the air.

The housekeeper waited a moment, then, getting no answer, left quietly with the soup.

As soon as the coast was clear, Tarquin scooped Elysia up bridal-style and strode straight to the bathroom—kissing her all the way.