My Flirtacious Husband (Genevieve and Armand)

Chapter 1529 Can I Kiss You

Chapter 1529 Can I Kiss You

As it was getting late, Timothy instructed the housekeeper to take Asel upstairs for a bath and bedtime.

Meanwhile, he continued to play card games with Johanna.

Johanna was very careful each time, yet it was always her poker card that tipped the pull tab. Soon

enough, she finished the entire row of light orange cocktails.

Even though the cocktail didn't seem to have much of an alcoholic taste, Johanna gradually began to

feel dizzy.

Her eyes reddened from the alcohol she had consumed. Seeing the pile of poker cards on the table,

she was reminded of her utter defeat. Sniffling, she cried out to Timothy, “Timothy, you're bullying me...”

She continued, “You must have tampered with the Sprite can. How could I keep losing otherwise?

You're such a big meanie.”

Timothy realized that the bartender was absolutely right. The cocktail was essentially pure vodka; a few

glasses were enough to easily knock out someone with a good tolerance for alcohol.

He knew that Johanna would reveal her true nature when she was drunk.

Timothy stifled a laugh and replied innocently, “I swear I didn't. It's just your bad luck, Jojo.”

His words made Johanna cry.

Seeing that she was really crying, Timothy hurried over to comfort her, “There, there, I admit I tampered

with the Sprite can. I wanted to get you drunk.”

“Why did you get me drunk?” Johanna glared at him.

Her sweet, drunken demeanor was irresistible to Timothy, who couldn't help but lean in to kiss her. His

voice was husky as he said, “Because I don't like it when you're too polite to me. I want you to scold me

and glare at me like this.”

“Jojo, it's not convenient for you to go home drunk. How about you stay here for the night?” Timothy

coaxed her.

Johanna responded vaguely with a hum.

She lazily draped her arm over Timothy's shoulder, her voice sweet and slightly tipsy as she cooed,

“Timmy.”

“I'm here,” Timothy responded. The nickname was rapidly turning him into putty in her hands.

“Won't you carry me upstairs?”

“As you wish.” Even if Johanna hadn't said anything, Timothy would have carried her anyway. After all,

who would let their drunk wife climb the stairs by herself?

After carrying her to the bedroom, Timothy remembered something.

He settled Johanna onto the couch before turning on his phone's voice recorder, ensuring that every

word they spoke was captured.

After placing his phone on a nearby table, Timothy said chidingly to Johanna, “Jojo, you know you can't

hold your liquor well, so why did you drink so much?”

“The cocktail is good...” Johanna mumbled, “I want to drink more.”

“No more drinks. Isn't your shop opening early tomorrow?” Timothy squatted beside Johanna, asking

with concern, “Jojo, can you manage to take a bath by yourself in the bathroom?”

Johanna was trying to sober up while lying on the couch. When she heard Timothy's voice, she

lowered her gaze to see who was speaking.

Seeing the affectionate gaze from his charming eyes, she found herself captivated. She raised her

hand to touch his cheek. As she did so, her fingertips gently brushed against his lips.

Timothy gently removed her hand. His voice was filled with discomfort as he said, “Jojo, this isn't right.

We are living separately now.” From NôvelDrama.Org.

“I want to touch it,” Johanna declared defiantly, sitting up from the couch. Not only did she reach out to

touch Timothy's face, but she also closed the distance between them, so close that her breath now fell

on his forehead.

She lowered her head and gently kissed the corner of Timothy's eye. “Timmy, you're so handsome.”

Johanna planted kisses across Timothy's cheek and his high, proud nose. Finally, she stopped on his

thin, soft lips.

The urge to kiss her was overwhelming, like an itch in Timothy's heart that he desperately wanted to

scratch by pressing his lips fiercely against her cheeks.

Timothy swallowed hard, tilting his head back to look at Johanna. “Jojo, I didn't mess around. You're

the one who's touching me.”

“Mmm, yes, I'm the one making the moves,” Johanna admitted. Her slightly cold hands cradled his face

as she asked coquettishly, “Timmy, do you love me? Do you like it when I kiss you?”

Timothy deliberately paused for a while, then asked, “What do you think?”

As the liquor went to Johanna's head, she mistook his deliberate refusal to respond as a sign that he

did not love her. At that moment, she felt wronged, and her eyes welled up with tears. “Why don't you

love me? Timmy is a big bad guy.”