Chapter 8

Chelsey was nothing but a substitute.

When Lucas had regained his vision and laid eyes on her for the first time, he'd realized her face was different from what he'd imagined.

That was why he'd moved out to live alone. He wanted to work out his true feelings.

…

20 minutes later, the Bentley stopped in the garage of Lucas' and Chelsey's marital home. Lucas carried Chelsey, who was now asleep, into the house.

After losing his eyesight, Lucas didn't want any outsiders around him, so they didn't have live-in maids at the villa. Every week, a cleaning service employee would drop by to clean the place, and a makeshift housekeeper would come over to cook their lunches and dinners.

She would leave once she was done and wouldn't linger. As for breakfast, Chelsey would prepare that for them both.

Lucas had sealed himself from the world in this villa, and Chelsey had been the only one who could get close to him. She'd warmed and healed him.

Lucas carried Chelsey upstairs, cradling her in his arms as she slept. The guileless, innocent look on her face made her seem like a harmless kitten. She looked lazy and adorable.

The dress she wore was already short, to begin with, and after everything that had happened, the hem had curled up to her groin. Her long, slender legs were on full display. Her full chest was also threatening to fall out of her dress.

Lucas felt the blood rush to his head as odd images flooded his mind. They were dreamlike yet seemed oddly real.

For the past few days, he kept dreaming about him and Chelsey doing unspeakable things. The images had been blurry the first few times, but they were getting clearer and more vivid now. Even Chelsey's face was becoming more pronounced.

Lucas felt like he'd been placed under a spell. He shook his head to clear his mind of those steamy images.

He put Chelsey into the bathtub and turned on the tap. The warm water washed over her.

Her eyes remained shut as she leaned against the tub comfortably.

Lucas took his own soiled clothes off and threw them into the trashcan. Then, he took a quick shower, put his bathrobe on, and turned around.

He saw Chelsey had taken her minidress and lingerie off. She was now trying to stagger out of the bathtub and bathroom.

Her foot caught on the side of the bathtub, and she fell forward.

Lucas dashed over and caught her. She melted into his embrace, her body soft and supple from the warm water.

Her skin was smooth and flawless; it made one want to bite her to see how she tasted.

Lucas' throat constricted, and he started burning up. Every inch of him felt tormented.

Chelsey's natural scent wafted into his nostrils; he suddenly had the urge to have his way with her in the bathroom.

Soon, however, his rationality won out. Lucas held his breath and gnashed his teeth as he wrapped a towel around Chelsey. He carried her out of the bathroom and placed her on the bed.

She wrapped a slender arm around his neck and pressed her face to his chest with her eyes shut. She soon fell deeply asleep again.

Chelsey had always liked holding Lucas after falling asleep. At first, Lucas had hated it and had pushed her away countless times. But she would still burrow her way into his arms.

When he woke up in the morning, she would always have her arms wrapped around him tightly. She'd even throw a leg over him.

As time passed, he got used to it. In fact, he seemed to sleep better with her holding him.

Lucas looked down to look at Chelsey's sleeping face. This wasn't her first time holding him while she slept, but it was his first time scrutinizing her like this.

Her long lashes fluttered in her sleep, and her nose and lips were delicate. This was especially so for her lips, which were cherry-red and moist even in her sleep. They reminded him of a sweet treat.

Lucas' throat constricted again. He shut his eyes and forced himself not to think of anything. He had to go to sleep.

At that moment, he heard Chelsey mumble, "Young and tasty men, that's what I want … Get me some more … No, I don't want Lucas. I want young, virile men. Ten of them … at the very least …"

Lucas was speechless. They'd yet to divorce, and she was already looking for her next boy toy. Did she think he was dead?

He glared at her, then forced out through gritted teeth, "Even ten young, virile men are no match for me!"