Chapter 2

“Do you mind if Xavier stays here?”

I turned to Dent and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mind. But why does he want to stay here?” I threw the question back at him, which made my husband smile faintly. His large hand ruffled my hair as he rolled onto his side to face me.

“Xavier’s looking for a place close to his clinic. Mom suggested I let him stay here for a while. That’s okay, right?”

I nodded in understanding. But for some reason, I still felt uneasy, remembering what happened yesterday. His touch. The way he looked at me. It made me restless. Not to mention what he said.

“I missed you, sister-in-law,” he whispered when we hugged.

As far as I knew, we weren’t close enough to miss each other. The way he whispered it felt like it carried another meaning—something beyond the kind of longing it should have been. But I couldn’t use that vague uneasiness as a reason to refuse Xavier. After all, he was Dent’s brother, which meant he was my brother too.

With a wide smile, I wrapped my arms around Dent. “Alright. Xavier can stay here.”

Dent chuckled softly before kissing me. “Thank you, Olivia. I really appreciate how willing you are to accept Xavier in our home.”

After talking for a bit longer, Dent pulled me into bed. But like usual, he reached his peak too quickly. I lay there frozen, staring at the ceiling with an empty smile. Dent wrapped his arms around me and soon fell asleep, while I remained awake beside him.

Slowly, I slipped out of his embrace. Climbing off the bed, I quickly grabbed my phone from the nightstand. I tiptoed into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat.

Breathing unevenly from the frustration of unfulfilled desire, I opened an adult website. Honestly, I wasn’t someone who enjoyed watching these disgusting videos. But ever since Dent stopped being able to satisfy my needs, I had been looking for some kind of outlet.

Dent always assumed my moans and sighs meant I was satisfied when we made love. The truth was, I wasn’t.

God, forgive me for not being honest with him about this. I didn’t want to hurt him. The news about his infertility had already hurt him enough. I didn’t want to add another burden by telling him that I had never truly been satisfied with him in bed.

My body heated up as I watched the man and woman on my phone. Desperate, I opened my nightdress and touched myself, searching for release. My back leaned against the wall. My breathing turned ragged as I closed my eyes.

Suddenly, my brother-in-law’s face appeared in my mind.

Xavier.

His touch. His intense gaze. His deep voice.

Damn it. The thought of him only made the heat inside me grow stronger.

I immediately pulled my hand away from my body. The desire that had been rising instantly collapsed under the weight of my own awareness.

“Oh God! No! This isn’t right.”

I forced myself to snap out of it and turned off my phone. Frustrated, I stood up and walked out of the bathroom. But after only one step, I froze.

Dent was sitting on the edge of the bed in his shorts, his hands clasped over his knees.

“Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, Dent. Next time I’ll—”

“Were you touching yourself, Olivia? Wasn’t I enough for you earlier?” he asked suddenly.

I blinked at him. Dent looked hurt.

“Huh? Wh–what are you talking about?” I stammered.

“I’ve caught you doing it in the bathroom after we have sex… several times already,” he admitted.

My back slid against the door behind me. Both hands covered my face roughly.

Now I had hurt Dent’s pride.

I really was a terrible wife. I should have realized that Dent might find out about what I had been doing all this time.

“I’m sorry, Dent.”

“Just be honest. Are you not satisfied with me?” he asked firmly, clearly demanding the truth. “Am I really that bad, Olivia?” he whispered, his voice trembling.

I hurried over and crouched in front of him, taking his shaking hands in mine. For a moment, I wanted to lie just to make him feel better. But lies would only ruin everything, wouldn’t they?

With a heavy heart, I nodded.

“Dent, you’re not as bad as you think!”

“Olivia, I promise I’ll try to be a good husband to you. I’ll try to satisfy you,” he cut in, determination filling his face. His grip around my fingers tightened, as if he truly believed he could change.

Wasn’t that a good thing?

I nodded and hugged him. “Maybe you’ve just been really tired lately. That’s why your performance hasn’t been the same. I understand, Dent.”

Hopefully my words could repair the pride I had just shattered. When I saw Dent give a small smile, relief washed over me. He believed me.

Now all I had to do was hold myself back and keep our relationship the way it was.

Right?

And yet, no matter how much I tried to convince myself, a strange feeling kept creeping in. I wasn’t sure how long I could hold on.

Especially when Xavier arrived with Dent that afternoon, carrying two large suitcases. He had really moved into our house, taking the guest room that had been empty all this time.

I tried to act normal. Even though every time I faced him, my body reacted strangely, remembering the light brush of his touch.

Meanwhile, Xavier remained distant and cold. He barely spoke, except to Dent. That was better, because at least that thick wall between us could serve as a boundary—one that made our positions clear.

“Olivia, I need to head back to the office. Take care of Xavier, okay?”

Dent kissed my forehead before leaving, just like that—leaving me alone with Xavier, who was now unpacking his suitcase and placing his clothes into the closet.

I stepped closer to the room. For a moment I almost turned back, but when Xavier glanced at me, my steps stopped.

“If you need anything, you can find me in the kitchen.”

Xavier nodded and continued what he was doing.

I quickly headed to the kitchen and started making lunch. As I was busy chopping vegetables on the cutting board, I heard Xavier’s voice from behind me.

“Olivia, do you have a hair dryer?”

I turned around—and froze.

He was standing there with nothing but a towel around his waist.

I blinked, completely unprepared for the sight of how well-built he was: broad shoulders, a wide chest, and defined abs that made me swallow hard.

A drop of water slid from his wet dark-brown hair down his cheek, trailing over his chest before disappearing beneath the fold of the towel.

I swallowed again.

What was I even thinking?

The knife slipped from my hand, nearly landing on my foot. Embarrassed by my own reaction, I quickly crouched down to grab it. But instead of the handle, my fingers caught the blade.

I hissed in pain, staring at the blood on my finger.

Xavier stepped closer. His scent—clean soap and something distinctly masculine—filled the air.

Before I could react, he grabbed my hand and put my bleeding finger into his mouth.

My eyes widened.

“Xavier, that’s dirty!” I cried, trying to stop him.

My cheeks burned just as hot as my finger in his mouth. He looked at me with a sharp gaze.

“What’s dirty?” he asked softly.

The question felt like it carried a double meaning, because it seemed like his mouth wasn’t just sucking the blood from my finger—it felt like his tongue was slowly stroking it.

As if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

I pulled my hand out of his mouth.

“I’ll take care of the cut myself.” I quickly turned away, hiding my burning face. “The hair dryer is on my vanity table.”

Xavier looked at me for a moment before finally turning and leaving.

But his presence lingered.

I crouched down again, pressing a hand against the ache low in my stomach.

Instead of being confused about my brother-in-law’s strange behavior, I was even more confused about myself.

Why was I reacting like this?