Sorry, I'm the Final Boss Now novel Chapter 151

The birth of her and her three brothers had been no accident.

"Okay, that works. You go on up, I'll be there in a minute."

Marguerite, who also smelled faintly of Cajun food, ran back to her bedroom for a quick shower. She changed into her pajamas and then padded up to the third floor. The third floor was mostly a recreational area, complete with a home theater.

The bathroom door was closed, but she could hear the sound of running water from inside. She curled her delicate fingers and knocked.

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound seemed to echo in her own chest.

"You can come in."

The man's pleasant voice, tinged with weakness, came from within.

Marguerite’s long, curled lashes fluttered as she turned the handle and opened the door. A cloud of steam, carrying the faint scent of lemon body wash, billowed out. From the doorway, she could see the handsome man sitting in the bathtub. His uninjured arm, lean and muscular, rested on the edge of the tub. His fingers were long, the pale back of his hand traced with faint blue veins. It was an incredibly sexy sight.

Just one glance was enough to make Marguerite's face flush to the roots of her hair. It's so hot in here. Did someone slip me something?

She closed the door behind her but found her feet rooted to the spot. She was the one who had offered to help, and now she was the one chickening out.

"Um, be careful with that arm. Don't let it get wet," she called out from a safe distance.

The girl was wearing a yellow cartoon pajama set, her long hair casually tied up in a bun, giving her a look of lazy, effortless beauty. The shorts revealed a pair of long, slender legs.

George only allowed himself to look for a second before a pinkish hue spread across his entire body. He was grateful for the years he had spent diligently working out. He didn't use the gym on the third floor much, but he had a private gym and a trainer at his company, where he worked out for at least an hour and a half every day. He was also thankful for the new scar cream from the research institute, which had made the scar on his chest nearly invisible.

Her eyes couldn't help but drift lower, over a set of eight well-defined abs. And further down… was hidden by a generous amount of foam.

"No!" George’s voice was firm, but with a barely perceptible tremor. Just having her look at him was like taking an aphrodisiac. If she touched him, he was afraid he would lose control and do something he'd regret.

The cheeky girl’s gaze had been rather brazen until his firm rejection. She even saw a flicker of panic in his eyes, as if he was about to cross his arms over his chest and cry, "Don't you come near me!"

That snapped Marguerite back to reality. She mentally slapped herself. What am I doing?! I'm scaring him! Who was it that had promised not to peek just a few minutes ago? He must think she was a pervert.

Her mind raced, launching into emergency damage control. "George, you don't have to be afraid. I'm a pervert!"

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