บททั้งหมดของ MARRIED TO MY EX-FATHER IN LAW.: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Five days. It's been five days since Ocean collapsed. Five days of sitting in this chair, holding his hand, watching him fight for his life. Five days of hell. I've lost track of time. Don't know if it's day or night anymore. The curtains are drawn. The lights are dim. Everything exists in this gray twilight state where nothing feels real. Except the fear. That feels real. Ocean is still unconscious. Still burning with fever. The doctor says his body is fighting. That he's strong. That he has a chance. But it's been five days. Five days and he hasn't opened his eyes. Hasn't squeezed my hand back. Hasn't said my name. I'm starting to lose hope. "Lola, you need to eat." Hannah is here again. She's been coming every few hours, trying to get me to take care of myself. "I'm not hungry." "You haven't eaten anything substantial in three days. You're going to collapse." "I don't care." "Well I care. Ocean would care." Hannah sets a plate down on the table. "Just a f

Ocean is awake. Ocean is awake and looking at me and his eyes are clear and focused and he's alive. For a second I can't move. Can't breathe. Can't do anything except stare at him. Then everything hits me at once. Five days of terror. Five days of watching him fight. Five days of thinking I might lose him. And now he's awake. A sob tears out of my throat. Loud and ugly and completely beyond my control. "Ocean." His name comes out broken. Desperate. "You're awake. You're really awake." I launch myself at him. Careful of the IV but not careful enough. I just need to touch him. Need to hold him. Need to make sure he's real. My arms wrap around him and I bury my face in his neck and I sob. "You're okay. You're okay. Oh my god, you're okay." Ocean's arms come around me weakly. He's still so weak. But he's holding me. He's actually holding me. "I'm okay," he murmurs. His voice is rough. Hoarse. But it's his voice. "I'm here. I'm okay." "I thought I lost you." The wo

Lola's POVOcean's hands are everywhere. In my hair, gripping tight enough to sting. On my face, thumbs dragging across my cheekbones. Sliding down my neck, my shoulders, my arms like he's trying to brand every inch of me into his memory through touch alone. He's kissing me like he's drowning and I'm the only air left in the world...deep, consuming, possessive. His tongue fucks into my mouth in slow, filthy strokes, tasting me, claiming me. I've never been kissed like this. Never been touched like this. Like I'm something precious and filthy and necessary all at once. "You're so fucking beautiful," Ocean growls against my lips, voice wrecked. "So goddamn beautiful it hurts." His hands find the hem of my shirt. He pauses, eyes locked on mine, asking even though my body is already screaming yes. I nod frantically. He peels my shirt over my head slowly, reverently, but his gaze is pure hunger. His eyes devour every new inch of exposed skin...my stomach, the curve of my waist, t

OCEAN'S POV I can't keep my hands off her. It's been three days since we first made love and I still can't get enough. I'm supposed to be working. Supposed to be focused on finding who poisoned me. Supposed to be running my organization. Instead, all I can think about is Lola. Lola in my bed. Lola in the shower. Lola walking around my house wearing my shirt and nothing else. Lola. Always Lola. I'm in a meeting with Daniel and Michael, going over the investigation into the poisoning. They're talking. Presenting evidence. Making logical points. And I'm thinking about how Lola looked this morning when I woke her up with my mouth between her legs. "Boss?" Daniel's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Did you hear what I said?" "Sorry. Repeat that." Daniel exchanges a look with Michael. They both know exactly where my mind went. And they're both trying very hard not to smirk. "I said we've narrowed the list of suspects down to eight people who had both access and potential motive

LOLA'S POVI'm standing in Ocean's private shooting range. It's in the basement of the mansion, soundproofed and professional. Ocean is behind me, his body close to mine, his hands guiding my arms into position. "Feet shoulder-width apart," he instructs. "Knees slightly bent, you want to be stable." I adjust my stance and the gun feels heavy in my hands, it feels foreign. "I don't know about this," I say. "Maybe I should just..." "You should learn to protect yourself." Ocean's voice is firm. "I won't always be there, I need to know you can defend yourself if something happens." He's been saying this for days, ever since he recovered from the poisoning. He wants me to learn to shoot, to fight, to be able to protect myself. Part of me thinks it's unnecessary. Ocean has security, guards. People whose job is to protect us. But another part of me remembers sitting by his bedside for days, terrified and helpless. I remember the women at the Romano event who cornered me and made me f