Hitched & Hitched Again: A Comedy of Marital Mayhem novel Chapter 1203

In an instant, Elysia felt her whole body flush, blood rushing straight to her cheeks.

Her porcelain skin turned a shade of red that could rival a boiled lobster.

There he was—someone was lying stark naked in bed, not a stitch on!

The sight was... well, honestly, it was way more than Elysia could handle.

Without thinking, she grabbed the edge of the comforter and tried to cover him up again.

But before she could tuck him in, Tarquin’s long arm shot out, pulling her right into the bed with him.

He rolled over, caging her beneath him, trapping her in his embrace.

His voice, low and a little hoarse, sounded right in her ear—deliciously restrained:

“Done with your work?”

His breath was warm and tickled her ear, the air between them thick with anticipation.

Elysia’s heart beat so fast she thought it might burst, her face burning.

“You… why aren’t you asleep yet?” she stammered.

“Waiting for you.”

“Waiting for what?”

The words were barely out of her mouth before she realized how dumb that sounded. He wasn’t even wearing boxers. It was pretty obvious what he wanted.

Tarquin’s handsome eyes narrowed, a mysterious gleam flickering in their depths.

“Take a guess.”

His hands were already starting to wander.

Elysia could feel the pounding of his heart, the heat of his palms—and, well, certain other unmistakable signs.

“Elysia~,” he murmured.

“Yeah?” she answered, voice trembling.

“Elysia.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Elysia…”

He kept saying her name, over and over, each time like a feather trailing across her heart—soft, teasing, impossible to resist.

Her breathing grew heavier, her eyes fluttering shut, waiting for him to show her just how much he wanted her.

But instead, he just kept repeating her name, as if he was under a spell, making no further move.

Elysia waited, then finally cracked an eye open.

Tarquin was looking down at her, grinning that lazy, devil-may-care grin that made him so infuriatingly attractive.

“Getting desperate, huh?” he teased.

Elysia sucked in a breath, mortified and furious all at once. She pushed at his chest, trying to shove him off.

“No way! I’m done playing!”

Tarquin noticed she was really about to lose her cool, and quickly changed tactics.

“Okay, okay, it’s me! I’m the one who can’t take it! If you keep holding out on me, your poor husband’s gonna die of frustration! And then what? No more husband for you!”

Before she could protest, he caught her hands, pinned them above her head, and kissed her deeply.

The room grew hot, rippling with something electric.

Somewhere else, though, not everyone was having such a good night.

At that moment, Zane was drinking alone, downing whiskey like water—all because of Elysia.

She’d blocked him. On WhatsApp, on his phone—everywhere. Total radio silence.

Zane looked like the poster boy for heartbreak, slouched in his chair, glass in hand.

The doorbell suddenly rang, breaking the silence.

Zane frowned. “Who the hell…?”

No answer. He got up and checked the peephole.

No one there.

He picked up a heavy vase—just in case—and checked every room.

Finally, he circled back to his office and checked the security cameras again.

Nothing. Not a single person had come in. He was alone.

Maybe he was just losing it—too much stress, too little sleep.

He rubbed his temples, trying to relax, then headed to the bedroom.

But as soon as he walked in, he saw a shape reflected in the mirror—it was his father, Arthur Livingston, who’d died years ago.

Zane froze, eyes wide in terror.

Arthur grinned at him, a wide, unsettling smile. “Hey there, kiddo.”

Zane’s knees gave out and he collapsed onto the floor, clutching his head and screaming.

The next morning, Zane woke up sprawled on the floor, heart hammering.

Everything from last night came flooding back.

He glanced around the room suspiciously, but everything seemed normal.

His phone rang, vibrating insistently. Zane grabbed it and answered, “Yeah?”

“The evidence is in your inbox. It proves you’re innocent.”

Finally, some good news.

Zane checked the files, relief washing over him. Now Elysia would know he hadn’t done anything wrong—and she’d have no reason to keep him from taking Winona.

Before leaving, Zane remembered the weirdness from the night before.

He called the smart home tech company, asking for someone to check out his system.

Maybe it was just a glitch. Maybe.

As he stepped outside, his shoe crunched on something—gray ash, like the kind people burn in old rituals for the dead.

Zane’s skin crawled.

He had no idea last night’s nightmare was just the beginning. He hesitated, brow furrowed, then got in his car and drove away.