Chapter 25

“Take the phone from my pocket and call William. Ask him to go to the parking garage if he’s sorted out the situation,” Ellison said in a low voice, still holding Joycelyn in his arms.

The moment Joycelyn realized the issue was resolved, she snapped to attention. “Where’s your phone?”

“Right pocket.”

Joycelyn nodded obediently, then reached her small hand between them to find his phone. She was aiming to get this done quickly, so her hand slipped into his pocket—but the moment her fingers brushed the fabric, she froze. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling. “Wait… what is that?”

She heard his low, gravelly voice, thick with tension. She looked up, meeting his gaze. His sharp features were shadowed, but his eyes burned with intense heat.

Joycelyn blinked, confused. “The phone…” she muttered softly.

“Ugh.” Ellison’s voice was darker than usual, heavier, as though he was barely restraining himself.

“What?” Joycelyn blinked innocently, completely unaware. She looked like a naive little girl, her face full of confusion. Her small hand, still clutching his pocket, remained unassumingly sweet.

Ellison’s jaw tightened, his gaze full of restrained affection. His throat worked as he swallowed; his voice was low but full of restraint. “What do you mean, ‘what’?”

Joycelyn furrowed her brows, the realization dawning slowly. Her face turned bright red as her wide, cat-like eyes flickered nervously. “I… I thought it was the phone.”

“Haven’t you touched it before?” Ellison’s voice dropped even lower, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was a teasing, amused grin, though his voice grew huskier. “Joycelyn, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Joycelyn bit her lip, her face turning as red as a freshly cooked shrimp. She wished she could shrink into herself.

“You get it yourself; I’m not doing it anymore,” she mumbled, pulling her hand back, crossing her arms, and wiping her hands on her clothes.

Ellison’s body stiffened, his muscles taut with barely contained tension. “Then hold on to me.”

“Okay.” Joycelyn buried her face in his chest and, without thinking, wrapped her arms around his neck.

Ellison used one hand to take out his phone, unlock it, and placed it gently in her lap. “Call.”

“Okay.” Joycelyn nodded obediently, quickly finding William’s number and dialing.

“Mr. Grant, we’re still working on it here. Please give us three more minutes,” William said.

“Okay. Once it’s ready, I’ll be waiting at Exit A,” Ellison said.

After hanging up, Joycelyn hesitated, not daring to put his phone back in his pocket. She didn’t want to overstep, so she kept it in her hands. Glancing up at him, she caught a glimpse of his face.

In the dim lighting, Ellison’s sharply defined features were bathed in shadow, adding an extra layer of mystery to his already striking appearance. His eyes, normally cool and controlled, now gleamed—powerful and almost intimidating. He exuded authority and elegance, the kind of man who looked stunning from any angle. His presence was undeniable, noble, and captivating.

Joycelyn, her face still flushed from embarrassment, couldn’t help but smile shyly. The alcohol still buzzing in her system, she chuckled softly and said, “Mr. Grant, you’re really handsome. Seriously, you look great from every angle.”

“Joycelyn, if you change how you address me, maybe I’ll be able to control myself better when we get home,” Ellison replied, his voice rough with barely contained desire.

“What? Change what?”

Ellison’s gaze softened as he looked down at Joycelyn. “What do you think?”

Joycelyn shook her head, unsure. “I don’t know… I think ‘Mr. Grant’ works fine.”

She was well aware of her place—working for him during the day and staying at his home at night.

Just then, a black Bentley pulled up, flashing its headlights. William immediately got out and opened the back door. Ellison gently set Joycelyn in the seat before getting in himself.

Joycelyn was drifting off to sleep in the car when she received a call from Aurelia.

“Joycelyn, where are you? Mr. Cross is gone, and when I asked Linda, she said you two went to rest!” Aurelia said. Aurelia had only stepped into the kitchen to check on the dishes, but when she came back, both Joycelyn and Tommy had disappeared, making her worry.

“Aurelia, I drank too much.” Joycelyn glanced at Ellison, his face dark and cold. She instinctively pulled her shoulders in. “I had someone pick me up and take me home.”

“Who picked you up?” Aurelia asked, anxious.

“Uh… just a really good friend, someone I ran into at the restaurant.”

Hearing the word “friend,” Ellison shot a cold glance at Joycelyn, who was nervously licking her lips. He thought, From ‘Mr. Grant’ to ‘friend,’ it seems like we are growing more distant by the minute!

“Yeah, I’m fine now. You be careful going home, okay?” Joycelyn said in a sweet, reassuring tone.

Aurelia, hearing how casual Joycelyn sounded, was relieved and stopped pressing. “Alright, just let me know when you get home.”

“Okay.” Joycelyn nodded. After hanging up, she set her phone down and fell asleep again.

When she woke up, she found herself in the master bedroom’s bathtub. She was undressed, soaking in hot water, and her body felt completely relaxed. The bathroom was filled with steam, and Joycelyn lay with her face resting against the tub’s edge. Her complexion was pale with a subtle flush, making her look soft and delicate. Ellison had discarded his shirt and pants on the floor and stepped into the tub.

The water splashed gently around them, and Joycelyn let out a soft murmur of contentment. But soon, Ellison’s rough hand began to wander over her body, his touch teasing and igniting desire within her.

Joycelyn gave another soft sound, slowly opening her eyes to meet Ellison’s impossibly handsome face. “Mr. Grant!”

Ellison had been trying to hold back from hearing that title for some time. He wrapped his arms around Joycelyn from behind, trapping her between him and the tub.

“Call me ‘honey,’” he growled, his voice deep as he nipped at her earlobe.

Joycelyn instinctively pulled her neck back. “I need to brush my teeth.” She remembered she had thrown up earlier and needed to brush three times.

“Call me ‘honey’ first, then you can go.”

“No.” Joycelyn shook her head stubbornly, her face flushed and defiant.

Ellison pressed his chest against her back, his muscular body leaning down. “If you don’t, I’ll make you cry.”

“I just threw up,” Joycelyn said, her voice a little tipsy and stubborn. “If you’re not disgusted, go ahead and make me cry.” Ellison, who had a strong aversion to anything unpleasant, immediately let her go to wash up.

The sound of water splashing filled the air as Joycelyn’s graceful figure moved through the room. She looked like a lotus rising from the water, her body creating ripples in the tub.

Joycelyn, now more awake, stepped out of the tub, wrapped herself in a towel, and headed to the sink to brush her teeth. Ellison remained in the tub, the water gliding over his lean, toned body.

He moved with effortless grace, listening to the sound of Joycelyn brushing her teeth. When she turned off the faucet, he slowly got out of the tub.

As Joycelyn was drying her face and preparing to return to her room, the door opened. Ellison’s powerful, muscular frame appeared in the doorway, water droplets sliding down his tanned skin, tracing the lines of his defined abs before disappearing into the waistband of his trousers.

Joycelyn stared for a moment, then quickly turned her head away. “Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?”

“You touch me even when I’m fully dressed,” Ellison said, stepping forward. He pulled her back, forcing her to face the mirror. In one swift motion, he ripped the towel off her.

“Tonight, let’s do something different. What do you say?” he growled, biting her earlobe again, his lips trailing down to her sensitive skin.