My Flirtacious Husband (Genevieve and Armand) novel Chapter 1267

Chapter 1267 The Only One

When Armand did not budge, Genevieve proceeded to help him take his shirt off. “Lift your arms so I can get this sweater off, and don't you dare suggest we take our baths separately again. Do you understand?”

He bent over and lifted his arms obligingly. “Weren't you the one who suggested it in the first place?” he asked, chuckling in amusement.

She glared at him.

Armand was tall and lean to begin with, and the sweater hung from his frame like a designer piece.

He was getting more attractive as he aged, his demeanor more composed and refined.

Physique-wise, his workout and training regime had accorded him muscles in all the right places. He looked trimmed and strong without coming off as exaggeratedly muscular.

Genevieve especially loved seeing him in suits.

Now that he had his shirt off, she could appreciate his well-defined chest, and she was obsessed with the sensation of his muscles coiling under his smooth skin.

She caressed his chest with her fingertips for a while longer, then planted a tentative kiss on his collarbone. “I'd take a bite out of you if I could.”

Armand chuckled and reached around Genevieve's waist, switching places with her. He placed a soft towel over the bathroom sink counter and effortlessly hoisted her up so that she could sit on it.

She leaned backward and wrapped an arm around his neck, grumbling, “What is it with you and this position?”

“I thought it might be less taxing on you.”

She snorted. “Don't make yourself sound so noble. You and I both know that any position, regardless of where we are, will be taxing on me.”

As she said this, she affectionately caressed his cheek with her free hand.

He had always sported a chiseled jawline and deep-set features. Whenever he looked at her, it was always with a gentle, indulgent gaze.

With her, he was never aloof or on his guard like he would be with outsiders.

Genevieve's fingertips brushed over his cheekbone, and she teased with a chuckle, “Who would have thought that our charming mayor, Mr. Faulkner, is actually an old man who's pushing forty?”