Page 17 of Falling for the Wife

The past twenty-four hours surely had drained all energy out of me. My mind shut down, and my body soon followed.

CHAPTER7

Gisele

“Gisele…”a soft voice tried to pull me out of my slumber. A warm hand took hold of my shoulder, lightly shaking me. “Gisele…time to wake up, sleepy head.”

My lips parted, deeply breathing, ready to dive back into sleep until another shake brought me out of the sleepy haze. “Uhrgggh,” I groaned with frustration before I reluctantly drew my eyes open. The illumination coming from the lamp made my sensitive eyes squint in vain before I found a grinning Jared lazily situating half of his body across the unused side of the king size mattress. His striking face merely a foot away, cerulean blues avidly scrutinizing my sleepy ones.

How long was he staring at me before waking me up? “What do you want?” My grumble somehow turned into a soft smile. How could I get pissy when his lovely self greeted me upon waking?

“Your father granted me permission to wake you up, so I don’t deserve the moody pout. Dinner’s waiting in his suite, princess.” His eyes flickered towards my head and snickered. “Your hair’s a crazy riot.” He found entertainment in seeing me in such a disheveled state.

“Yeah, let’s see what you look like waking up, too. I bet you drool all over the pillows.”

“I do not!”

“You seem like the kind to be farting in your sleep, too.” I cackled at his stricken expression.

“I certainly do not!” He took hold of a pillow and lightly thumped it on my head. “A gentleman never addresses when ladies fart, but with you, I’ll make sure you’re thoroughly fart-shamed.” He began to tickle me, and I screamed with delight.

“Ladies don’t fart, and that’s a fact!”

“It’s fiction.”

I squealed when one hand tickled the side of my hip while the other was on my neck, simultaneously driving me into a squeaking, giggling mess. Then he abruptly stopped, confusing me.

“What?” I beamed, blinking at him as I brushed my hair aside.

His throat bobbed.

My robe came undone, and he could fully see my nakedness, breasts and my daring warmer (wetter?) region.

His eyes were glued to my breasts before they excruciatingly gazed below, in between my slightly parted legs. His lids masked his eyes so I couldn’t very well see them, but I knew his gaze was stuck to my smooth, bald slit.

What is he doing?My heart rammed viciously against my chest. Did the view please himor…

Yeah, theorpart got to me. Bad.

“Oh, don’t look so horrified. Relax. It’s not going to bite you.” I tried to make a joke out of it as I gingerly teased him.

When those hypnotizing eyes snapped to mine, I was jolted by electricity. I was transfixed. My lips parted before I slowly began to pant, aroused beyond comprehension.

“Do you sleep with only a robe on?” His eyes dipped towards my full breasts then southwards. Again. Summoning the horny gods to provoke me.

“Yes, Jared…Will that be a problem?” I liked getting a rise out of him. Besides, the man was too serious; he needed to lighten the hell up. It felt mighty wicked to toy with him; it couldn’t be helped. Call it lunacy, but I considered it foreplay. There was nothing like a good mind-fuck.

“No, that won’t be a problem at all.” He shook his head, looking away as if the novelty of seeing my bare body had already expired and it no longer interested him.

I had expected this. Of course I did. But I wasn’t going down with embarrassment. I loved my body. I owned it. I was damn proud of it. “Yes, yes, yes, we know…tight eighteen-year-old bodies don’t do it for you.” To prove a point, I slid out of bed, audaciously slid the robe off my form, and then I cheekily strutted towards the closet to change for dinner. His eyes lingered, getting quite an eyeful of my backside.

“Stop staring at my ass, Jared,” I hollered at him without stopping my stride.

He remained mum.

I grinned. Yes, the man had gotten his comeuppance. I hoped I didn’t make him blush. Ha.

Stepping into my color-coordinated closet, I strode over to the floral dresses section. Dinner was to be a simple affair, so I opted for a simple white short dress with pale pink daisy flower imprints. I then lazily piled my hair into a messy bun. Once finished, I walked over to the adjacent room where my shoes were on glorious display. My mother specifically had these built because we both had a serious fixation on beautiful, well-crafted footwear.