Oops I Banged the CEO novel Chapter 13

Yvonne knew there was no escape. Her eyes, glistening with unshed tears, looked up at him as she pleaded softly, “Could we… turn off the lights?”

“No,” Marico answered, his gaze fixed on her flushed face, a barely-there smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Yvonne wanted nothing more than to run away.

Her damp fingertips hovered nervously on his suit pants, but she couldn’t summon the courage to unfasten them.

Marico watched her patiently, his eyes lowered.

Steam curled through the bathroom, blurring the light and softening the room’s edges.

Yvonne felt incredibly conflicted. The chill in her body had been washed away by the hot water, but her clothes clung to her skin, sticky and uncomfortable. She lifted her troubled, embarrassed face and looked at Marico, silently begging him for mercy.

He seemed almost too calm. His dark, intense eyes never left her, which only made Yvonne drop her gaze, overcome with shyness.

That’s when she noticed the blood trickling down Marico’s arm.

“You’re hurt—did you get hit earlier?” she asked, gently lifting his solid arm for a better look.

The blood, diluted by the spray of the shower, wound its way down his arm in thin, red rivers.

It looked frightening.

Marico glanced at the wound and nodded. “Yeah. So I’m going to need your help.”

A wave of guilt swept over Yvonne.

If he hadn’t been protecting her, he wouldn’t have been struck by that falling metal panel.

They always say that worry makes people careless. She hadn’t even realized that, just moments ago, he’d pulled her into his arms—using this very arm.

“Let me wash you first, then,” she said, cheeks burning with concern.

“Alright.” Marico’s eyes softened as he looked at her.

As she unfastened his pants and slid down the zipper, Yvonne felt heat rush from her face to the very tips of her ears.

She helped him out of his trousers, but hesitated at the last layer, needing several deep breaths before she could finally slide them down.

When her small, gentle hands lathered soap across his skin, Marico tensed, eyes shut, stifling a groan.

He’d only meant to tease her, but somehow ended up suffering himself.

Marico was already lounging on the bed, dressed in soft gray loungewear, his hair falling loosely around his face. He looked nothing like the stern man from the office—more relaxed, with an almost… attractive, husband-like charm.

“You patched yourself up?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Marico replied, glancing at her. His dark eyes were calm again. “There’s some ointment here for bruises. You should put a little on your face.”

Yvonne instinctively touched her cheek.

The side Robin had hit was still sore and a bit swollen.

She’d thought her hair would hide it, but clearly, he’d noticed.

“Okay. Then I’ll go to bed,” Yvonne replied, grabbing the ointment and getting ready to leave.

“There aren’t any extra blankets. You’ll have to sleep here tonight. We’ll deal with the other bed tomorrow.”

“…What?” Yvonne froze, her face a picture of surprise.

She felt as if she’d walked straight into some carefully laid trap.