Mr Billionaire's Regret Chasing His Irresistible Wife (Jared and Arielle) novel Chapter 92

(ARIELLE’S POV)

I felt my face heat up in embarrassment, and when I looked at Dwayne, he was already watching me, amusement dancing in his emerald eyes. His smile was slow, almost teasing, as if he enjoyed how flustered I’d become.

“Um,” I stammered, regaining a bit of composure. “Maverick, baby, can you go back to your room? I need to talk to Uncle Dwayne.”

"Alright, Mama," he said and got off Dwayne's legs, before running off to the room.

I turned to Dwayne, still reeling from embarrassment. "Don't mind what he said, he's just being a child."

Dwayne’s chuckle was low, his voice rich. “Oh, I don’t mind. Not at all.”

I breathed out in relief. "Thank you.

But then his expression changed, his gaze steady, almost too serious for the moment. “You knew this was bound to happen though, right?”

I frowned, confused. "What?"

“Maverick’s question,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his presence all-encompassing. “One day, he’s going to ask more about his father. He’s going to need answers, Arielle.”

I sighed, nodding. "Yeah, I know, but I just didn't expect it to be this early. I mean, he's just three."

"Four soon," Dwayne corrected.

"I know, I know, but still he's still so young."

Dwayne nodded. "That's right, but children are smart these days."

“I know…” I murmured, my voice trailing off as the room filled with a strange, thick silence. It wasn’t just Maverick’s question hanging between us—it was everything we weren’t saying, everything I had tried to push aside.

Then, without warning, Dwayne moved closer on the couch, his proximity sending a shiver down my spine. His warmth radiated, his scent, something deep and clean...enveloped me. His large hand settled on mine, the weight of it both grounding and electrifying.

“Don’t stress over it, okay?”

I nodded, trying to hold on to the comfort his words offered, but the air between us was shifting. My pulse quickened, my thoughts growing hazy as I rested my head on his shoulder.

His solid frame beneath me felt safe, yet there was something undeniably intense about the way we sat, bodies almost too close, every brush of skin amplifying the energy between us.

His fingers intertwined with mine, slow, deliberate. I didn’t pull away, couldn’t. The heat from his palm seeped into me, awakening something deep inside. Our eyes met—his gaze was darker now, more intent, as if he was waiting for something.

Then, suddenly, we were kissing. His lips on mine were firm, urgent, but not rushed. My pulse raced. The world around us faded to nothing, and the kiss deepened, stirring things I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time.

His free hand found my waist, pulling me closer, our bodies melting together as the kiss became more urgent.

But then, reality struck hard. I jerked back, gasping for air. “We… we can’t do this.”