After His Sweetheart Moved In, He Came Home Every Night-Chapter 84: Teasing Him, Igniting Him

Steam swirled in the bathtub, making Alice York’s already flushed face look like a ripe peach, utterly alluring.

He gripped her chin, and her damp, almond-shaped eyes shimmered. Uncomfortable, she tried to pry his hand away.

After struggling for a moment, her strength was completely spent. Now, unable to even support herself, her entire body slid down like a slippery eel.

GLUG... GLUG...

Her head slipped beneath the water, disappearing completely.

"Help me, hel—" GLUG, GLUG, GLUG...

Survival instincts made her thrash about, drenching Wyatt Sterling. His dress shirt and trousers were soaked through, a complete mess.

With a dark expression, he reached out a long arm and hauled her up, her head breaking the surface.

Alice York desperately clung to Wyatt Sterling’s arm to keep from sliding back under. She spat out the water she had swallowed and gasped for air in small, hurried breaths.

Wyatt Sterling brushed the wet hair from her cheek. "Is this your way of avoiding the question?"

Alice York caught her breath and slowly tilted her head back, her expression dazed. "...Third Uncle?"

The bathroom light was bright. In her line of sight, Wyatt Sterling’s head blocked the overhead fixture, leaving his features slightly blurry, but she could still clearly make out his expression.

Wyatt Sterling said coldly, "It seems you’ve sobered up."

Alice York choked out a cough. "More like I’m about to die."

"It’s not that easy to die." He gave her a slight lift to help her find her balance before pulling his hand back.

Having just choked on water, Alice was far from sober and felt completely unsafe. She tightened her grip on Wyatt’s arm, refusing to let go. "Third Uncle, I’m scared."

"You can feel fear?" His tone was laced with sarcasm.

"I’m scared..."

Her voice was a mere whisper as she blinked her drenched eyes.

Her long, raven-black lashes fluttered like cattails swaying in a sultry summer breeze, leaving him hanging in suspense.

His eyes darkened. Flustered by his intense gaze, Alice freed one hand to grip the edge of the tub and tried to pull herself out. "Third Uncle, I want to get out."

"You’re not clean yet." He pressed down on the hand she had placed on the edge.

"I am clean," she mumbled.

"Getting wet counts as washing?" He didn’t relent in the slightest. "You reek of alcohol."

Alice lowered her head and sniffed herself. "I don’t smell like alcohol."

Then, she cupped her breasts and pushed them upward. "If you don’t believe me, Third Uncle, take a sniff."

"..."

Ripples lapped against her chest, her skin flushed red. The sight was tantalizing, half-hidden beneath the water, hinting at a tofu-like softness.

And her face was simply exquisite—a perfect blend of innocence and seduction. Lively, with eyes as soft as silk, her every subtle expression set him on fire...

"Third Uncle, why aren’t you sniffing? Don’t you like how I smell? I’ll wash up, I’ll wash some more, and it’ll be all better."

Her mind was hazy as she scooped up water to scrub herself, splashing it onto Wyatt’s face in the process. A single drop landed on his eyelashes. He closed his eyes and flicked it away.

By the time he opened his eyes again, Alice had already risen and was lunging at him—

The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, but the moment she threw herself at him, it was replaced by her own fragrance. The fire inside him ignited.

"Hold me, Third Uncle," Alice said, pressing her soaking-wet body into his arms.

He didn’t need her reminder. Wyatt’s hand was already on the small of her back, her skin slick and smooth to the touch. "You’re like a completely different person when you’re drunk."

Alice pressed her forehead against his Adam’s apple, her movements fanning the flames of his desire. "Do you like it, Third Uncle?"

’Like it...’

’How could I not?’

He gripped her chin, his eyes burning with desire as he stared her down. "Who are you taking me for?"

Alice blinked, her eyes full of confusion. "Who... Who?"

"Alice York," he ground out through clenched teeth.

Alice was in a daze. She’d hear some things only to immediately forget them, while fixating on others that went unanswered. She rubbed her chest against him again. "Why won’t you sniff me, Third Uncle? Don’t I smell good?"

"..."

At the end of his rope, Wyatt scooped her up into his arms.

SPLASH! Water cascaded off her body, drenching him from head to toe.

His expression grim, he carried her toward the bedroom.

Water dripped from her body, leaving a trail on the floor. She clung tightly to his neck, her hot breath ghosting over the bulging veins there. "Third Uncle, I’m still not clean."

"You can wash later."

He tossed her onto the bed, her soft body sinking into the covers. He loomed over her, pushed her hair aside, and captured her lips in a kiss.

"Mmph..."

She shuddered but didn’t push him away.

The room felt like an inferno as the temperature skyrocketed. Alice wrapped herself around him like a vine, a little siren, clinging to him and pulling him closer with shocking forwardness.

Wyatt kissed her, fumbling with his buttons. Impatient, he ripped his shirt open, revealing a powerfully sculpted physique.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK—

A knock sounded at the door.

"Third Master, I’ve brought the sobriety aid."

A servant stood panting outside the door. The house’s stock of sobriety aids had run out, so they had to rush out and buy more. They had delayed by failing to check the supply, and while a reprimand was a small matter, they feared losing their job over the mistake.

Wyatt was an arrow notched on a bow, ready to be released, and of all the times for the sobriety aid to arrive, it had to be now. A vein throbbed on his temple. Forcing down the urge, he got off of her, wrapped her tightly in the blanket, and threw on a bathrobe before going to the door.

The servant saw the look on Wyatt’s face and shuddered. "Third Master, here’s the... the sobriety aid."

The medicine was on a tray, next to a glass of warm water.

Wyatt took the tray and spoke with cold fury. "Get out."

The servant’s head sank so low it was as if they had no neck. They scurried away at once.

The door closed.

The large bed was a complete mess. Alice had nearly twisted herself into a pretzel, the blankets unable to contain her. Any more wiggling and she would roll right off the mattress.

Her eyes half-lidded, she saw his silhouette and reached out a hand. "Third Uncle, I’m so hot..."

Wyatt put the medicine on the nightstand, then leaned over and pulled her up, tugging the blanket higher to cover her flushed skin. "Take this, and you won’t feel so hot in a minute."

Once she was sitting upright, he reached for the medicine and water, only for her to yank him back. "A kiss from you will cool me down, Third Uncle."

"Kiss me where?" A smile bloomed on his lips.

Alice puckered her lips and leaned in.

He lowered his head and gave her a peck. "Cooler now?"

"Almost," she said, leaning even closer. "Another one, please?"

Wyatt suppressed the impulse, refusing to be tempted. He quickly brought the pill to her lips and popped it in her mouth. But by the time he reached for the water, she had already spat it out.

"You little brat."

He picked the pill off the blanket and put it back in her mouth, immediately trying to give her some water. She clamped her lips shut, refusing to open them, so he had no choice but to take a mouthful of water himself and pass it to her from his own lips.

The pill went down, and she seemed to wilt, falling motionless in his arms.

Wyatt put the glass down and gently laid her back, supporting her head. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and stared for a moment. Just as he was about to lean over her, he realized she had a tight grip on the belt of his bathrobe.

"Sob... sob..."

The sound of soft, delicate sobs reached him. Wyatt froze for a second before looking down to see her face buried in the blanket, whimpering.

Tonight had been an ordeal. She had never been this drunk in all the time she had been with him. It wasn’t that she was unconscious—her mind was gone, but her body was still active, shamelessly teasing and setting fire to his desire.

And now, she was crying. The anger he had just managed to suppress flared up again. He brushed his thumb across her cheek. "What in the world are you crying about?"

Alice didn’t answer, just kept crying heartbrokenly.

Unable to contain his anger, and with no intention of trying, Wyatt hauled her upright. "I asked you, what are you crying about?"

Alice tilted her head back, her vision blurred by tears, looking utterly miserable. "You don’t love me..."