NTR: The live-in-husband gets a perverted heart system

Sienna remained standing in the driveway long after the black Mercedes disappeared around the corner. The low growl of the engine faded, but the heat in her face did not.

She turned and walked into the house with sharp, controlled steps.

Annoyance sat heavy in her chest, tangled with something more unsettling. Tom had bought himself a luxury car and driven off as if he had every right to it. That alone was enough to irritate her.

What bothered her more was the brief moment when the air around him had changed - when she had looked at him and, for a fraction of a second, she had perceived him as something closer to a gentleman. Soft. Composed. Almost worthy of respect.

The memory made her jaw tighten. Wasn’t that the Tom Harlow she knew?

"What more can he be? He’s still just Tom. A bartender who got lucky. Nothing more." She told herself.

But the thought no longer felt as solid as it once had. Something about him had shifted, and she hated that she couldn’t define it. She pulled out her phone and called one of the senior bodyguards.

"Follow my husband," she said the moment the line connected, her voice tight. "I want to know where he goes and what he does. Report everything. Quietly." she ordered.

Then she ended the call without waiting for confirmation and continued up the stairs, the lingering discomfort still sitting under her skin like an itch she couldn’t reach.

~~~~~~~~~

Tom had no destination in mind.

He simply drove.

The black Mercedes responded to the lightest touch of the pedal, gliding through the streets with a low, expensive sound that still felt unreal in his chest. He tested the acceleration on a clearer stretch of road, feeling the car surge forward with smooth, controlled power. For a while he let himself enjoy the simple fact that the vehicle under him belonged to him - no loans, no permission, no one else’s name on the papers.

He took a corner a little faster than necessary. The sudden rush of air from the speeding car caught the mini skirt of a woman walking along the roadside and flipped it high. For a brief seconds her dark lace panties were clearly visible against bare skin.

"Oh, no. Poor lady." Tom muttered in a sullen voice. He accepted that as his fault.

His foot eased off the pedal almost automatically. The old instinct rose at once: slow down, check if she was alright, apologise. He was already turning his head toward her when the System’s voice cut in, sharp and amused.

[Daily task reminder, Host. You are not allowed to apologise for anything today. Don’t throw away the reward because your soft heart woke up.]

Tom’s mouth closed even though he wasn’t going to accept what the system had just said. He kept the car at a slower speed and looked at the woman properly, fully expecting embarrassment or anger.

Instead she met his eyes and a smile broke out on her face. Then she winked.

"Like what you saw?" she called, her voice playful and practised. "Want to see what’s underneath those panties? I can make it worth your time."

Tom blinked. The offer was direct enough that even he didn’t miss the meaning. A prostitute. He shook his head once, polite but firm.

"I don’t do paid sex." he said.

The woman pouted, then her gaze slid past him to the gleaming Mercedes. Again. She had been eying the car without Tom’s knowledge. Interest sharpened in her expression even further.

"Shame. You look like you could afford a good time." She tilted her head. "At least give me your number. We could set something up properly. No rush."

"I love gentlemen. I can be gentle too if you want." She added as an afterthought, after looking at Tom’s face slowly.

Tom studied her for a moment. Beneath the practised smile and the suggestive posture, he could see the usual signs of someone who had been on her feet too long - the slight stiffness in her shoulders, the careful way she put weight on one leg. The kind part of him that the System kept trying to harden stirred again.

He reached for his phone. "Give me your account details."

She looked surprised but rattled them off quickly. Tom transferred twenty thousand dollars and put the phone away.

"Go home for today," he said, in a quiet but voice. "Take the money, eat something proper, and rest. You can continue tomorrow if you still want to. Just... not today."

The woman stared at him, caught between confusion and something softer. "You are really not interested? Most men in a car like that would’ve at least negotiated."

"I’m not most men." Tom put the car back in gear then called out. "Take care of yourself."

He drove off before she could try again. In the rearview mirror he saw her still standing there, looking between the money notification on her phone and the disappearing car, her expression unreadable.

However the body language analysis skill that had been at play all morning made Tom knew the woman was excited at what she just got.

A small sense of quiet satisfaction settled in his chest. He had almost apologised. He had wanted to. But he hadn’t broken the task. And he had still managed to do something that felt decent. Something that was totally him.

[Look at that,] the System said, sounding openly entertained. [Host actually listened for once. Resisted both the apology and the cheap thrill. I’m actually proudb.]

Tom’s mouth curved slightly. "I told you I wouldn’t fail."

[You still have one task left,] the System reminded him, voice turning sly. [Twelve minutes. Mirror. Filthy words about Stella. No cumming. I do hope you’re not planning to put it off until you’re too tired to do it properly.]

Tom rolled his eyes, but there was no real irritation in it.

"Why does it seems like you are actually waiting for exactly that moment?" He asked, cocking his head.

[That’s the fun part, won’t you agree with me? Why wouldn’t I look forward to that moment?] The system replied.

"Right, I momentarily forgot what you are." Tom mumbled the last part, chuckling to himself.

[Of course I am exactly what you think I am. Watching you try to stay in control while I slowly corrupt you is one of the few reliable pleasures of this arrangement. Don’t disappoint me, Host. I’m expecting a proper performance when you finally lock yourself in that room.]

Tom exhaled through his nose, a reluctant smile tugging at his mouth as he turned onto a quieter road. The car purred under him. The unfinished task sat in the back of his mind like a low, insistent heat.

He would finish it.

Just not yet.

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