My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Charlotte had frightened her. Sasha pouted, saying, “Aunt Charlotte, you're really too much. Why don't you just ask Uncle Jerry yourself?”

Charlotte kissed her cheek and coaxed, “If you complete this task, I'll buy you a Barbie doll set tomorrow, okay?”

“Alright.” The allure of the toys ultimately had Sasha surrender.

She ran to the entrance and grabbed Jerry, who was about to leave. She put on a pitiful expression, claiming that she and her Aunt Charlotte were terrified of thunder. “Uncle Jerry, it's not safe for you to go home in the rain. Why don't you stay at my house for the night?”

Unable to resist the pitiful gaze of the kid and feeling that she and Charlotte were not safe at home, Jerry eventually agreed.

Charlotte used to come here frequently for meals, so Jessica had set aside a bedroom for her. Charlotte let Jerry stay in her room while she accompanied Sasha to take a bath.

Sasha said, “Aunt Charlotte, I'm scared of thunder. Can you sleep with me tonight?”

“Of course, my dear, you are my precious niece,” Charlotte replied, beaming.

After they came out of the bathroom, Charlotte coaxed Sasha to sleep, then took out a pair of noise-isolating headphones and slipped them over her ears.

She was very familiar with Jessica's place, so she easily found her way to the bedroom where she was staying. She crept inside quietly, where only the warm, yellow glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the space.

Apparently, Jerry had gone to bed early.

Charlotte quietly made her way to the side of the bed, lifted the blanket at the foot, and climbed in. Like a caterpillar, she quickly snuggled up to Jerry, resting her head in his arms.

He was woken up by her movements. He lifted his hand to pull back the blanket, and Charlotte looked up at him with a smile.

“Jerry.”

Her red hair was spread across his chest and arms, and her makeup-free face looked exceptionally pure and alluring, with a touch of gentleness. However, the corners of her eyes were upturned as she flashed him a sweet, wicked smile.

Foxy-eyed women were generally charming, but they could be divided into two types.

The first was a woman who was so overtly flirtatious that people could not help but refer to her as a “vixen.” On the other hand, there was also the type that did not deliberately tease others but was still impish, able to make someone surrender with just a glance.

Charlotte was the latter type; she was simply mischievously attractive, always knowing when to show vulnerability when men needed it.

Charlotte hooked her arm around Jerry's neck, her lingering kisses falling on his collarbone, chin, and lips. She carried a faint scent of juicy peaches, making her all the more enticing.

Seeing that Jerry was unmoved, she took the initiative to snuggle into his arms. She pulled his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to it.

Jerry felt that the finger she had kissed was both hot and burning, and his breathing gradually became heavier. He grunted, “You couldn't hook up with Mr. Little, so you're going to crawl into my bed?”

Charlotte lifted her eyelids to look at him and bit his finger. “Are you jealous?” She asked.

“Who told you to be so stubborn and not get out of the car to pick me up? I'm going to make you angry for that,” Charlotte giggled. She explained, “All I did was invite him to have dinner at Golden Restaurant, nothing else.”