{BOOK THREE}...When unworldly literature student Jeon Jungkook first encountered the driven and dazzling young entrepreneur Kim Taehyung it sparked a sensual affair that changed both of their lives irrevocably. Shocked, intrigued, and, ultimately, r...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Jungkook P.O.V.
When I wake before the alarm the following morning, Taehyung is wrapped around me like ivy, his head on my chest, his arm around my waist, and his leg between mine. And he's on my side of the bed. It's always the same, if we argue the night before, this is how he ends up, coiled around me, making me hot and bothered.
Oh, Beyond. He is so needy on some level. Who would have thought? The familiar vision of Taehyung as a dirty, wretched little boy haunts me. Gently, I stroke his shorter hair and my melancholy recedes. He stirs, and his sleepy eyes meet mine. He blinks a couple of times as he wakes.
"Hi," he murmurs and smiles.
"Hi." I love waking to that smile.
He nuzzles his face in my chest and hums appreciatively deep in his throat. His hand travels down from my waist, skimming over the cool satin of my nightwear.
"What a tempting morsel you are," he mutters. "But, tempting though you are," he glances at the alarm, "I have to get up." He stretches out, untangles himself from me, and rises.
I lie back, put my hands behind my head, and enjoy the show—Taehyung stripping for his shower. He is perfect. I wouldn't change a hair on his head.
"Admiring the view, Mister Kim?" Taehyung arches a sardonic brow at me.
"It's a mighty fine view, Mr. Kim."
He grins and throws his pajama pants at me so they almost land on my face, but I catch them in time, giggling like a schoolgirl. With a wicked grin, he pulls the duvet off, puts one knee on the bed, grabs my ankles, and drags me toward him so that my night shorts rides up even higher.
I squeal, and he crawls up my body, trailing little kisses on my knee, my thigh . . . my . . . oh . . . Taehyung! -
"Good morning, Mister Kim," Mrs. Jones greets me. I flush, embarrassed remembering her tryst with Taylor the night before.
"Good morning," I respond as she hands me a cup of tea. I sit on the bar stool beside my husband, who just looks radiant: freshly showered, his hair damp, wearing a crisp white shirt and that silver-gray tie. My favorite tie. I have fond memories of that tie.
"How are you, Mister Kim?" he asks, his eyes warm.
"I think you know, Mr. Kim." I gaze up at him through my lashes.
He smirks. "Eat," he orders. "You didn't eat yesterday."
Oh, bossy Tae!
"That's because you were being an arse."
Mrs. Jones drops something that clatters into the sink, making me jump.
Taehyung seems oblivious to the noise. Ignoring her, he stares at me impassively.
"Arse or not—eat." His tone is serious. No arguing with him.
"Okay! Picking up spoon, eating granola," I mutter like a petulant teenager. I reach for the Greek yoghurt and spoon some onto my cereal, followed by a handful of blueberries. I glance at Mrs. Jones and she catches my eye. I smile, and she responds with a warm smile of her own. She has provided me with my breakfast of choice introduced to me on our honeymoon.
