Married To My Billionaire Stepbrother

Chapter 163

Chapter 163: I Am Not A Saint

Natalie stood frozen in her place, and got back to her senses only when she heard the water from the shower running. She looked at the bathroom door and remembered Justin’s expressions from just a moment before.

’Is he angry that I pretended to forget it? Is he disappointed in me, because I was the one to beg him for it, but like an ungrateful person, I didn’t even acknowledge his help or thanked him for taking care of me?

I am such a terrible person.She buried her face in her hands, struggling to get the hold on her thoughts. What should I do now?

Her eyes landed on the T-shirt Justin had tossed aside before heading to the shower. She picked it up, and for a moment, it felt as though it still carried the warmth of his body. Her heart skipped a beat, memories of the previous night flooding back—of him, of them, and the way he had cared for her.

That intoxicating closeness, those passionate kisses, his warmth that felt more comforting than anything, his scent, and the deliberate care in his touch. Every intimate moment lingered in her mind, causing her breath to grow shallow.

What the hell? I’m not high on drugs anymore to be feeling like this again. She quickly folded the T-shirt, set it on a chair, and hurried out of the room before Justin could emerge from the bathroom.

She went straight to the kitchen, grabbed a chilled bottle of water from the fridge, and downed half of it to steady herself.

’It’s just that the weather is hot... and I am thirsty,’ she tried to reason out, breathed a few more times to calm herself and looked around the kitchen. I shall cook everything he likes to make up for what I did.

Natalie remembered what Justin liked as she could guess it from his reactions whenever he ate her cooked meal. She started preparing quickly. Everything has to be delicious. Once he sees the food, he’ll forget all his anger.

She was immersed in cooking when Justin entered the kitchen, now dressed in casual home clothes. His damp hair clung slightly to his forehead as he ruffled it with his fingers on his way to the fridge to grab a drink.

Natalie was aware of his presence but didn’t dare to look at him, unsure how to react. She could see through the corner of her eyes that he was drinking water and his gaze was on her.

"Dinner will be ready soon," she said, trying to sound casual.

Justin hummed and put the bottle aside, only to hear Natalie wince lightly in pain. He looked at her and found that she had cut her finger.

Damn it! Natalie cursed inwardly and grabbed a tissue to stanch the small cut on her forefinger.

Justin stepped out of the kitchen instead of going to her.

a small cut so he doesn’t need to pay attention,’ she tried

taking her by surprise. A

see," he said, taking hold of her injured hand without waiting for

at how worried he looked for just a small cut on her finger. He had the bandaid in his hand. Now she understood he didn’t ignore her but

running water, then wiped gently

this chance to talk about the things

was embarrassed..." she murmured hesitantly, her voice barely above

on carefully wrapping the

it all happened... I should have thanked you instead of pretending not to remember. I just thought it would help keep things

didn’t want to?" Justin interrupted, his voice low but firm.

up, meeting his

with you whenever I see you. I’m no saint, Natalie. But I wasn’t going to do anything while you were drugged.

her, but she didn’t feel reluctant. He was boldly telling her what he wanted from her, but why did

she got to know him,

him, every bit of it

heat radiating from him. His voice, low

hard to hold back when you kept asking for it,"

tugged at her memory, dragging her

With this much closeness, he

her cheek, his thumb brushing across it in slow, deliberate strokes. The touch sent a tremor through her, and his breath, warm and steady, grazed her skin like a

whispered,

His eyes darkened, his

speak, but no words came. And then,

he asked, his voice rough

nod, her breath hitching in her throat, words failing her

muddled by the haze of

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