Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 49

Aiden's POV

The car smoothly moved to the side of the road. I helped Aria to the window, which she opened with fumbling hands. The cool night air rushed in, clearing some of the fog from both our minds.

After a few deep breaths, the color returned to her face, and the nausea seemed to pass. She leaned back against me, her head resting on my chest as she pointed out the window.

"Aiden, that car is shaking so much."

I didn't even look, pressing her hand back down. "You're seeing things."

"No, I'm not!" she insisted with drunk determination. "Look, that car is really shaking a lot!"

She paused suddenly, then looked up at me with wide, scandalized eyes. "It's shaking so much... do you think they're... having sex in there?"

I froze. In the confined space of our vehicle, her unfiltered words rang out clearly.

The absurdity of the situation—my normally reserved, proper wife loudly speculating about strangers having car sex—was almost too much.

I felt a laugh threatening to escape but managed to contain it.

Meanwhile, Aria continued her tipsy moral outrage. "That's so inappropriate! In broad daylight! How could they possibly be doing—"

She stopped mid-sentence, realization finally dawning on her face.

Even through her drunken haze, she seemed to comprehend what she'd just said. Her already flushed face turned an impossible shade of crimson.

"I... I feel dizzy—" she mumbled, before promptly burying her face against my chest.

I couldn't help but smile as I looked down at her pretending to pass out. This side of Aria—unguarded, uninhibited, and utterly adorable—was something I'd never expected to see.

The thought that I was the only one who got to witness it stirred something possessive within me.

As we continued our journey, she finally quieted down, the peak of her intoxication taking hold. She snuggled against me, arms wrapping around my torso as if I were her personal teddy bear.

The weight of her body against mine, her gentle breathing against my neck, her scent filling my senses—it was a sweet torture I hadn't prepared for.

By the time we arrived at the mansion, she was sound asleep. Lucas opened the door and was about to speak, but a single look from me silenced him.

I lifted Aria from the seat, cradling her against my chest. She was lighter than I expected, fitting perfectly in my arms.

I'd worried the movement might wake her, but she was deeply unconscious, barely stirring as I carried her through the house to her bedroom.

Occasionally, she would shift slightly, readjusting her position to nestle more comfortably against me, her face peaceful in sleep.

I carried Aria to our bedroom, carefully laying her on the bed. Before I could fully withdraw, her arms snaked around my neck, refusing to let go.

Her lips moved, whispering something I couldn't quite catch. Looking down at her clinging to me, I felt the emotions I'd been suppressing all day surge forward like a tidal wave.

Her lips, slightly parted and glistening in the dim light, reminded me of ripe cherries—tempting, sweet, and utterly forbidden.

"If you don't let go," I warned softly, "I might not be gentlemanly anymore, little rabbit."

She responded with a small whimper, seeming cold despite the room's comfortable temperature. She instinctively sought warmth, nuzzling closer.

Her lips accidentally brushed against the side of my neck—a fleeting, innocent touch that ignited something primal within me.

That single touch was like a spark to dry kindling. The desire I'd been fighting exploded into an uncontrollable blaze.

But as I began to tug the fabric down, Aria suddenly stiffened beneath me. Her face, previously flushed with desire, drained of color in an instant. Her eyes widened in panic.

"Aria?" I asked, concern immediately replacing desire.

"I don't feel—" she began, then clapped a hand over her mouth.

Before I could react, she pushed against my chest with surprising strength. I barely had time to move before she leaned over and emptied the contents of her stomach—all over my bare torso.

The warm, acrid liquid splashed across my chest and stomach, the shock of it freezing me in place. For several seconds, neither of us moved, the only sound in the room being Aria's labored breathing.

When I finally looked down at myself, I saw the mess that covered me—a revolting mixture of wine and whatever she'd eaten at dinner. The smell hit me a moment later, making my stomach turn.

Aria slowly raised her head, horror dawning on her face as she realized what had happened. "Oh my god," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Aiden, I'm so sorry—"

Another wave of nausea seemed to hit her, and she quickly scrambled off the bed, stumbling toward the bathroom with one hand still pressed firmly over her mouth.

With a sigh, I stood up and headed to the shower in the guest bathroom, peeling off my ruined pants along the way.

As the hot water washed away all traces of our interrupted encounter, I couldn't help but shake my head at the absurdity of the situation.

After thoroughly cleaning myself, I returned to check on Aria. I found her curled up on the bathroom floor, her dress wrinkled and her makeup smeared. She looked small and vulnerable, her eyes closed and her breathing even.

She'd passed out again, this time on the cold marble floor. Despite everything, I felt a surge of tenderness as I looked at her.

I carefully lifted her into my arms, carrying her back to the bed. After cleaning her face with a warm washcloth and changing her into a nightgown, I tucked her under the covers.

I made a silent vow as I watched her sleep: I would never let her drink that much again.