"Don’t move!" He lifted a finger, wiping a sesame seed from the corner of her lips. As his fingers brushed against her soft lips, he felt an uncontrollable wave of affection and instinctively drew closer to her.
The man’s face magnified before her. Staring into his eyes, Vera Wave felt rooted to the spot, as if under a spell. She couldn’t move. Not until his tongue slipped past her teeth did she realize what was happening, startling her into retreat.
"Mr. President... Good... Goodbye!"
She hastily opened her door and practically fled into her room.
Leaning against the door, her heart still pounded wildly.
In her mouth, she could still taste the faint flavor of lemon—the taste of the chewing gum he’d had.
She panted heavily, like a fish about to be stranded.
There was a knock on her door.
"What... what is it?!" Vera Wave asked from behind the door.
"You left your bag at my place."
She composed herself and opened the door. Indeed, Kris Cooper was standing outside, holding her backpack.
Not daring to look him in the eye, she held the door open wider and took the bag.
"Aren’t you going to invite me in?"
"It’s... It’s too late. Maybe... maybe another day?!"
"Then, get some rest. And remember to wake me up in the morning."
"Good night." ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novel(ꜰ)ire.net
"Close your door properly."
She closed the door, listening to the sound of the door across the hall opening and then closing. Only then did she finally release the long breath she’d been holding.
She tossed her bag onto the sofa, slipped into her house slippers, and padded into the bathroom. As she picked up her toothbrush, she remembered their kiss.
Gazing at her reflection—a girl with flushed cheeks and swollen lips—she touched her own face.
The girl in the mirror was pretty, especially her skin, which was incredibly delicate.
"If you do well, your bonus will definitely not be small." Kris Cooper’s voice echoed in her ears again.
There’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world, nor do pies simply fall from the sky.
When a man helps a woman , there are usually only two reasons.
Two, he wants to sleep with her.
The first was impossible, which only left the second.
The encounter at the bank flashed through her mind, along with the smug faces of Robert Taylor and his assistant. Vera Wave gritted her teeth once more.
Her only asset now was this body of hers. He wanted to buy; she wanted to sell.
Biting her lip, Vera Wave tore open her blouse and stepped under the showerhead.
「In the small room just a wall away.」
Kris Cooper removed his suit, showered, put a record on the player, poured himself a glass of red wine, and sat down on the sofa.
Noticing the wallet on the table, he picked it up and flipped it open. Gazing at the still somewhat youthful face in the photo, and remembering their earlier kiss, the corners of his lips lifted slightly.
There was a knock at his door.
Puzzled, he turned his head, put down the wallet and glass, and went to open the door.
Outside stood Vera Wave, her hair hanging wet on her shoulders, a white bathrobe clutched around her. Her eyes betrayed a poorly concealed panic.
"Vera! What’s wrong?" Seeing her, Kris Cooper looked surprised and quickly stepped aside. "Come in and tell me."
Vera Wave walked in, wrapped only in the bathrobe. She was shivering, as much from cold as from nervousness.
"Mr. President, I... my showerhead is broken. I... I was halfway through my shower..." Lowering her head and biting her lip, she mustered her courage, then looked up and threw him what she hoped was a seductive glance. "Mr. President, may I use your restroom?"