The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife-Chapter 215: The Forgotten Dishes

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Chapter 215: The Forgotten Dishes

Logan leaned in, forehead nearly touching hers, his hand still warm on her cheek. For a second, it felt like the rest of the world fell away... the office, the pressure, the past... all of it shrinking until there was only him and her and the quiet pulse of shared warmth.

Then Jean’s stomach let out a small, embarrassing growl.

She stiffened. Logan’s lips quirked into a laugh, soft and genuine.

"I guess your appetite has grown. Eat," he teased gently. "Before I end up stealing the rest."

She ducked her head, fighting a smile, and took another bite.

A few skewers later, Logan leaned closer, voice a husky murmur. "You look cute when you’re messy, you know."

Jean huffed, lightly pushing at his shoulder. "And you look smug when you say that."

"Fair," he murmured, smiling cheekily.

They finished the last bites slowly, standing barefoot on the cool kitchen tiles, the soft hum of the fridge the only background noise.

And for once, Jean didn’t feel guilty for lingering in the warmth of his gaze.

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They gathered the empty plates and greasy foil, carrying them to the sink. Logan rolled up his sleeves higher, revealing the strong lines of his forearms, while Jean fetched the dish soap.

"You wash, I’ll rinse?" she offered.

"Deal," Logan replied, his voice low, still tinged with that teasing warmth.

The water ran warm over her hands. Jean tried to focus on scrubbing the sauce-stained plate, but she could feel Logan’s presence beside her... the subtle heat of his body, the faint scent of his cologne tangled with smoke from the street food.

A piece of sauce slipped past her fingers, splashing onto her wrist. Before she could react, Logan’s hand gently caught hers.

"You’re messy today," he murmured, thumb brushing over the smudge. His touch lingered a beat too long, heat pooling low in Jean’s stomach.

She cleared her throat. "You’re one to talk," she shot back, recalling the way sauce had stained his lips earlier.

Logan chuckled softly. "Fair enough."

They worked in silence for a while, but it wasn’t comfortable... it was charged. Jean felt every accidental brush of his arm, every drop of water that landed on her skin.

At one point, Logan leaned closer, reaching around her to grab a cup. His chest brushed her shoulder, his breath warm against her ear.

"Sorry," he murmured, but his voice sounded anything but apologetic.

Jean’s hands stilled under the water. Her heart thudded loudly, traitorously.

Then Logan lifted his hand, a drop of water balancing on his fingertip. His gaze locked with hers... dark, amused, wanting and let the drop fall lightly onto the curve of her collarbone.

Jean gasped softly, water dripping down her skin.

"Logan..." she warned, her voice catching. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

"Hmm?" His expression was lazy, playful, but his eyes burned.

"You’re... impossible," she whispered, heat rushing to her cheeks.

"Am I?" Logan’s voice dropped, the tease melting into something thicker, more molten. He reached out, thumb grazing her chin, tilting her face slightly up.

Jean’s breath stuttered.

The soapy water still ran over their hands, warm and forgotten. Logan’s gaze flicked to her lips, and for a moment, the kitchen, the plates, everything blurred.

Jean felt her resolve crack under the softness of his touch and the sharp edge of his desire.

"If you keep looking at me like that," he rasped, leaning closer, his forehead brushing hers, "we won’t finish the dishes tonight."

Jean swallowed, pulse fluttering.

"Then don’t look," she whispered back, but her voice lacked conviction.

Logan’s lips curved into a low laugh, rough and sweet all at once.

"Too late."

The warmth of Logan’s breath was the last thing Jean registered before her body moved on its own.

Their mouths met in a sudden, hungry kiss. The water still ran in the sink, plates clattered forgotten in the basin, but none of it mattered.

Logan’s hand slid to her waist, tugging her closer until there was nothing but heat between them. Jean’s fingers curled into the front of his shirt, clutching the fabric, pulling him in like she couldn’t get close enough.

The kiss deepened, messy and desperate, the taste of barbecue sauce and beer still lingering on their lips. Logan groaned softly against her mouth, his hand finding the small of her back, anchoring her to him.

"Logan..." Jean gasped when he broke away, only to claim her lips again, gentler this time but no less searing.

"Bedroom," he rasped, voice rough with desire.

Jean didn’t reply... she only nodded shakily, breath shallow, her pulse thrumming wild and hot.

They stumbled through the quiet hallway, Logan’s mouth grazing her jaw, her throat, each kiss sending shivers racing down her spine. By the time they reached the bedroom, Jean felt dizzy from wanting.

Logan pressed her softly against the door, his lips trailing down her neck, pausing when he felt her trembling. He pulled back, searching her face.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low, roughened by restraint.

Jean’s heart squeezed. She wanted him... God, she did but something inside her still whispered to go slow. It wasn’t fear, not anymore. It was... tenderness. Inexperience. A desire to savor, not rush.

She bit her lip, meeting his gaze honestly. "I... I’m not ready. Not all the way. Yet."

For a heartbeat, she feared disappointment would shadow his face. But instead, Logan’s expression softened... heat still burning in his eyes, but layered now with something deeper. Affection. Understanding.

"Okay," he murmured, voice gentle as a promise. "We won’t."

He kissed her again... slower, as if tasting the moment instead of devouring it.

Then he guided her to the bed, his hands careful and steady. Jean’s breath caught when his fingers traced the edge of her blouse, brushing the bare skin at her collarbone.

Logan pressed soft kisses there... down her throat, across her shoulder, each touch reverent and lingering. His fingertips skimmed her waist, tracing gentle patterns that left goosebumps in their wake.

Jean closed her eyes, letting herself feel every brush of his lips, every warm breath against her skin.