Filed to story: My Husband Regrets Divorcing Me (Audrey & Cornell)
“Damn it!” Jarrod muttered under his breath, his frustration evident as he yanked at his collar, accidentally popping a couple of buttons.
His shirt fell open slightly, revealing the chiseled contours of his chest, an unintentional display of raw masculine allure.
Thankfully, Nicole’s outburst had been brief. Had it persisted, Jarrod might have been tempted to remove her from the car before reaching their destination.
Reflecting on the evening, Jarrod questioned his decision to bring Nicole home. Perhaps he should have maintained his usual role as an indifferent observer. After all, she didn’t need him. She needed someone else..
The suburban property was one of many owned by Jarrod but held a special place as his personal retreat.
Jarrod valued its tranquility and the way it stood isolated, near the river. During storms, he would sit on the large terrace, Listening to the rain lash against the river, the sounds reflecting the turbulence of his past.
Those moments reinforced his resilience, a testament to the adversities he had overcome. There was no returning to the polished gentleman he once pretended to be, if he ever truly was one.
He never was.
As the car approached the villa, the staff, already informed by the driver, were prepared. Both the doctor and the housekeeper were ready to assist.
As the car pulled up, they hurried out to meet Jarrod. Seeing Jarrod half-dragging, half-carrying Nicole, the housekeeper stepped forward to help, but Nicole resisted, flinching away from both Jarrod and any other approaching hands.
Nicole’s clouded mind kept her constantly alert around anyone, a behavior ingrained from a life filled with constant upheaval. She resisted Jarrod, though his familiar scent provided a modicum of comfort compared to the strangers around her.
Jarrod observed her reluctance to interact with the staff and felt a slight uplift in his mood. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips as he calmly said, “No need.”
The housekeeper sensed Nicole was a special one to Jarrod when noting how Nicole clung to Jarrod, attempting to fend off anyone else’s touch.
For one, no other woman had ever been brought to this villa by Jarrod.
Additionally, Jarrod was not known for his patience with women. Yet, here he was, displaying an uncharacteristic tolerance.
Concluding that Nicole must hold some special significance to Jarrod, the housekeeper adjusted her approach to better accommodate Nicole.
Jarrod gently placed Nicole on the couch, and the doctor immediately began to assess her condition.
After a brief examination, he reported, “Mr. Schultz, it appears she has ingested a mild hallucinogen, nothing highly toxic. It should be manageable.”
“Then manage it,” Jarrod responded tersely.
The doctor nodded. “Well, it’s not a serious condition. She could simply sleep it off with someone to ensure her safety and comfort.”
The doctor, aware of Jarrod’s usual reluctance to bring women home, saw an opportunity to suggest a more personal care approach. He was merely presenting the facts, leaving the decision up to Jarrod.
Indeed, the substance Nicole had consumed was likely a mild emotional enhancer, rather than a dangerous drug.
Jarrod inquired, “Are there any other alternatives?”
Clearly, Jarrod was not enthused by the doctor’s suggestion. The doctor hesitated, sensing he might have misjudged the situation.
But Jarrod’s expression was telling. It was that of a man considering his options for a woman in his care.
The doctor, understanding the subtext, offered an alternative. “Or we could administer a sedative via injection. How would you like to proceed?”
“Will there be any side effects?” Jarrod asked, his concern evident.
The doctor reassured him quickly, “No, not at all. I’ll use the mildest sedative we have.”
With a thoughtful look at Nicole, Jarrod didn’t deliberate long.
“Give her the injection,” he decided.
The doctor nodded and retrieved the necessary tools from his medical kit.
Nicole, however, continued to resist, writhing despite her restrained wrists.
The housekeeper hesitated to apply too much force, wary of causing harm, and appeared rather helpless in the situation.
Finally, Jarrod took control, firmly holding Nicole down. “Give her the injection,” he instructed the doctor.
Once the sedative was administered, Nicole’s demeanor softened significantly, becoming as docile as a timid deer.
Jarrod then directed the housekeeper to take Nicole for a bath while he went upstairs to cleanse himself.
In his room, Jarrod removed his soiled clothes and stepped into the shower, naked.
As the water washed over Jarrod, he felt a sharp sting on his lip.
Touching it, he remembered Nicole had bitten him during their intense kiss. The incident stirred thoughts he typically suppressed.
Jarrod was not devoid of desire, but he generally chose to control it. The overt advances from women rarely interested him. Often, they even repelled him.
Publicly, Jarrod acknowledged only Vicki, yet their relationship had not progressed beyond platonic interactions.
Vicki had made advances, but Jarrod had maintained his boundaries, clear about his disinterest in deepening their physical connection.
If they were to marry, Jarrod expected Vicki to embrace a celibate life. She had already consented to not have children. Imposing further would be unfair.
Thus, Jarrod had Alec subtly introduce the notion of a vasectomy as a litmus test for Vicki. If she accepted, all would proceed. If not, it would simplify his decisions.
Despite rumors, Jarrod knew his disinterest wasn’t due to work stress but something more personal. His desires only emerged in solitude, always fixated on one particular woman, Nicole.
Nicole’s recent kiss with Jarrod had unexpectedly reawakened his dormant longings. Annoyed with himself, he turned on the cold water, hoping to quell the heat within.
Feeling somewhat composed after his cold shower, Jarrod donned a silk robe. Leaving his hair damp, he exited his room. He encountered the housekeeper in the hallway, carrying a hairdryer likely intended for Nicole.
Jarrod extended his hand, his voice low and firm. “Give it to me.”
In the room, Nicole lay on the bed.
Her damp hair, still wet from the bath, framed her face. She wore a silk nightgown that the housekeeper had helped her into. The neckline was slightly loose, threatening to reveal more with any small movement.
Jarrod approached with a hairdryer in hand and began to gently dry her hair.
His movements were practiced and deft. He had done this before. A few years ago, he had dried Nicole’s hair when she was more submissive, almost like a contented kitten on the bed.
That first time Jarrod dried a woman’s hair was with Nicole, and since then, he hadn’t done it for anyone else.
Now, as he repeated the gesture, his feelings had shifted. Their relationship was beyond repair.
The warm air blew gently against her scalp. Nicole felt the warmth and tingled slightly but did not wake up.
The bed, Jarrod’s own, was spacious, a massive 2.8 meters wide.
After a moment’s hesitation, Jarrod climbed into bed and pulled the covers over himself.
The mattress dipped under his weight.
Jarrod had no intentions beyond sharing the bed, something he hadn’t done with Nicole in a long time. On a whim, he wanted to experience it again tonight.
The blanket carried the faint, alluring scent of Nicole.
Jarrod closed his eyes, deeply inhaling the unfamiliar fragrance, savoring it. He thought the long-lost scent of Nicole’s should have soothed him into sleep. Instead, it sharpened his mind, awakening something primal within him.
Struggling to maintain control, Jarrod fought against the raw urges surfacing within his consciousness. He exerted every effort to master himself.
But his body reacted quicker than his mind, driven by the proximity of her intoxicating presence. The pale skin, the soft breathing, and the red marks, all fueled his imagination in ways he wished he could suppress.
Jarrod’s breathing grew heavier as he edged closer to Nicole’s seductive figure on the bed. His broad hand slipped under the thin silk of the nightgown, pressing against her warm skin, kneading gently.
In the quiet room, the faint sounds of his rough breaths echoed.
This continued for a long time until a final, ragged breath escaped his lips.
Then, the trembling stopped.
Jarrod squinted and lay still for a moment. He withdrew his hand, pulled a few tissues from the bedside table, and cleaned up nonchalantly.
Afterwards, he rose and headed to the bathroom for a cold shower.
Emerging from the bathroom, still bare, Jarrod glanced at the still-sleeping woman on the bed and sighed. He decided against staying the night. It would be too challenging.
With that, he opened the door and left the room.
On the bed, Nicole’s sleep was restless. Her brows were tightly furrowed, her legs curled up, a sign of deep-seated insecurity.
Nicole had been insecure for many years.
In the past, with her parents close by, she could sleep soundly even on the small, uncomfortable cot in a hospital room.
But since her father’s passing, peaceful nights had been rare.
Tonight, she dreamt of her father again. Her dream traced back to the time when she was a child, and he was taking her to the countryside for a charity event.