Seducing My Father's Best Friend のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

I returned to the kitchen, my finger still throbbing slightly, but my mood remained buoyant. A small cut couldn't ruin my blissful morning, especially when things had fallen into place for me. Mr. Clinton's subtle acceptance of our relationship and teasing remarks had really lightened my day, and also Erin's disappearance felt as if the heavens were on my side today. I felt truly grateful for this peaceful morning, free from the tension and drama that had once plagued me. As I continued cooking, my eyes strayed to the peanut jar, now sitting at the far edge of the counter. I halted, my forehead creasing in thought. Wasn't that jar an arm's length away earlier? Or did I shift it over there a while ago? No, I was sure I didn't. I pursed my lips, staring at the peanut jar, trying to remember, but I had no memory of taking it to that position. "Whatever," I mumbled, averting my eyes and returning my gaze back to the almost ready meal before me. The sizzling vegetables and simme

SARAH'S POVPanic set in as I watched Miss Ross struggling to breathe. Her pulse was faint, her face turning pale as her eyelids slowly drooped, her body surrendering to darkness. Mr. Clinton's expression transformed from calm to frantic, refusing to let the worst happen.He had already started CPR when the paramedic arrived. Her chest felt fragile beneath his hands, and he silently prayed it wasn't too late."What happened?" one of the paramedics asked, rushing toward us."Peanut allergy," I replied, my voice shaking as my eyes welled up. "S..she ingested peanuts."The paramedic quickly took over CPR, and they rushed her to the vehicle, sirens blaring as we drove away.****At the hospital, the ER team swung into action. Doctors and nurses swarmed around her, shouting orders and administering medication."Anaphylaxis," a doctor called out. "Get her on oxygen, stat!"I stood aside, drowning in the tension as urgent murmurs and frantic noises enveloped me. This was my fault. I should h

I rushed out of my room, eager to shake off the lingering frustration from last night's conversation with Mr. Clinton. The constant denial of his feelings was a relentless gnawing ache trapping me in a vicious cycle of confusion and longing. Every glance, every gesture, every whispered word from him left me spinning my own wheels, desperately making me seek a way to make him admit he feels something for me. Even if it was to stir a tiny feeling within him, one that he can't quite ignore or back away from. As I turned the corner, I collided with a familiar figure— the one who had the power to shatter my heart and soothe my soul. "Easy there, where are you rushing off to?" Mr. Clinton said, steadying me by the shoulders. I apologized, avoiding his gaze. His disappointing words from last night were still fresh in my mind. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going," I said flatly, attempting to walk past him, but he quickly grabbed my wrist, sending a twinge of electricity jolting

Not wanting to push the issue further, I decided to drop the subject and respect his boundaries. "Tell me whatever terrible thing you did when you're ready." I flashed him a brief reassuring smile and then returned to my task. Just then, a loud coarse voice echoed from the living room, snapping both our focus to the doorway. "XAVIER! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!" Mr. Clinton let out a sigh as he hastened towards the doorway. Curiosity etched on my face as I trailed behind Mr. Clinton into the living room. "Who's that?" I whispered, tugging on his sleeve. Mr. Clinton's expression was a mix of frustration and wariness. "My troublesome sister," he murmured, picking up the pace. "Sister? Mr. Clinton, you have a sister?" I asked, my brow furrowing in surprise. "You never told me." He didn't respond, his face stern and serious as if he was ready for an intense battle. And it made me wonder why his sister's presence seemed to stir up his frustration. As we entered the living ro

With our foreheads touching, his lips grazed mine tantalizingly. His hot breath fanned my face, warming my skin and filling my senses with his scent—a subtle blend of cologne and raw masculinity. I noticed his inner struggles resurfacing again, just like the last time he kissed me. His constant repulsion is really pissing me off. "Sarah..." he whispered, his voice husky and low, vibrating through my entire being. "We shouldn't..." His words trailed off, leaving unsaid thoughts hanging in the air. "Shush, Mr. Clinton... don't start." I whispered back, cutting him off. "You promised not to hold back anymore," my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. He didn't respond immediately; instead, he pushed me back against the edge of the pool, his chest pressed against mine, the warmth radiating from his body enveloping me. "You're a temptation, Sarah... a sweet and treacherous one." He whispered, his lips still hovering over mine as his hand slithered down, tracing every