The Billionaire Werewolf’s Hidden Mate

Chapter 4

A gasp escaped my lips as I clutched my chest—too late. My torn dress had slipped, exposing my bare skin. My breath hitched, panic setting in as I realized just how much of me was on display.

His gaze darkened.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes flickering—just for a second—before he moved. In one swift motion, he shrugged off his shirt and draped it over my shoulders, his touch firm yet unexpectedly gentle.

“Here.” His voice was huskier now.

The warmth of his body lingered on the fabric, and the scent of expensive cologne and clean masculinity surrounded me. He helped me up, his grip steady, his hands large and warm against my skin.

“T-Thank you,” I stammered, keeping my eyes down, unwilling to look at his naked upper body.

“My pleasure, madam,” he said, a hint of amusement still in his tone. “And you can call me Grayson.”

I nodded quickly, gripping his shirt tightly around me as I turned on my heel and fled back into my room.

Once inside, I slammed the bathroom door behind me, my chest rising and falling as I pressed my burning face into my hands.

Was I embarrassed? Or was it something else?

Turning on the shower, I stepped under the warm spray, letting the water cascade over me. My fingers absently trailed over my collarbone, then lower.

My breasts were full, firm—C cups, just enough to fill my hands but not enough to sag. Perfectly proportioned for my slim frame.

I exhaled, closing my eyes.

The way he had looked at me.

The way his throat moved when he saw me.

I bit my lip. He thinks I’m attractive.

The thought sent a thrill through me, a dangerous, exhilarating awareness.

Meanwhile, in the next room, Grayson stood under the cold spray of his own shower, his palms braced against the tiled wall.

His body was still too warm, his skin tight with a tension he couldn’t quite shake.

What the hell is wrong with me? He thought.

She’s just a woman.

And yet, the memory of her—the way she had gasped, the way her soft curves had looked under the dim lights—was burned into his mind.

And his body refused to forget.

As soon as I calmed myself, I quickly dried my hair and climbed into bed. Jimmy also put down his phone, finally ready to sleep.

We lay side by side, each lost in our own thoughts, worlds apart despite sharing the same bed.

When the flowers outside were still kissed with morning dew, my alarm clock rang.

"Today, I’m soaking in every hot spring!" I declared with excitement.

"Wake up, honey, time for the hot springs!" I nudged Jimmy, shaking his shoulder.

He groaned, stretched lazily, and turned to study my face. "Ugh… morning, babe," he said with a yawn. Then, as if negotiating a business deal, he added, "I’ll go to the hot springs with you, but in exchange, you have to let me spend the afternoon playing games."

I felt my excitement dim slightly, and he must have noticed my expression because he quickly added, "You know I can’t handle the heat. Hot springs are torture for me."

I sighed in resignation. I know that half a day together was already the limit of his patience.

After washing up, I eagerly slipped into the swimsuit I had bought online—a bold, sensual one-piece with a daring cut between the breasts. I twirled in front of him, flashing a playful smile.

"How do I look? Do you like this swimsuit?"

Jimmy hesitated, his brows furrowing. "Uh… why did you pick this style? It looks kinda weird."

Typical. He always found something to criticize. And also, for men who are not interested in fashion, all the novel designs of clothing will leave them confused.

Ignoring his lack of enthusiasm, I shrugged. "Let’s go. If we wait too long, the pools will get crowded."

The open-air hot springs were beautifully designed, separated by bamboo partitions, nestled in the tranquil embrace of the mountains. The steaming pools reflected the crisp winter sky, and across from us, snow-capped peaks stood like silent guardians.

We chose a lavender-infused pool, hoping its calming scent would soothe my exhaustion from weeks of overwork.

Leaning against the smooth stone edge, I let the warm water lull me into relaxation.

Jimmy, however, fidgeted beside me, sighing every few minutes, clearly miserable. He exhaled sharply, shifting uncomfortably. "This is hell," he muttered under his breath.