Strange, too strange.
Why go to his room to apply medicine?
Moreover, Chen Ling never takes the initiative to find her; there's no reason for him to come looking for her and turn himself into—Yaxi sizes him up from head to toe—a seductive vixen.
She's been earning more lately, so she's willing to turn on the heating.
But in the cold winter, there's no need to wear such a thin white shirt, practically see-through. She can faintly make out the slight rise of his chest, where two pink nipples peek through, encircled by a soft areola.
The collar's unbuttoned twice, just enough to expose the collarbones on either side, their hollows dipping inward, though the muscles at his shoulders bulge with taut strength. Only his pale skin softens the aggression of it all.
His hair drips wet, water still trickling down. The red mole at the corner of his eye glistens with moisture, tempting someone to lick it dry. The scent of shower gel, laced with some sweet, cloying floral note, floods her senses, leaving Yaxi dizzy. And he's holding her now, their lower bodies pressed tight together.
He must have deliberately stood so close to the door.
He knows she'll slam it shut to hide the room's interior, and as long as he doesn't step aside, she'll crash right into his arms, caught in his grip.
With all this blatant seduction, is he offering himself up to get her help with something?
Or has he figured she's on her period, powerless against him, thinking he can crook a finger and bend her to his will?
Yaxi squirms in his embrace: "I'm going to shower first."
She doesn't say if she'll visit his room later, but her faintly panicked eyes betray everything, her flushed cheeks making the two blood-red scars on her face all the more alluring.
Chen Ling lets out a low chuckle, his long fingers threading through her hair, then leans down to rasp in her ear: "I'll wait for you."
Then he releases her and heads back to his room.
The heat lingers in the air by her ear; Yaxi touches her burning face, grabs her pajamas, and walks toward the bathroom.
Chen Ling, so full of tricks!
Yaxi's been in the bathroom for ten minutes, and Chen Ling still hasn't heard the sound of running water.
Worried she might have fainted inside, he steps over and knocks on the door.
"Yaxi?"
No response.
Chen Ling's anxiety spikes, and he calls again: "Yaxi?"
Finally, a voice answers from within, tinged with shyness: "Chen… Chen Ling, I forgot to grab… my underwear. Could you get it for me? It's in your room, bottom drawer of the wardrobe, first one on the right—just take the black one."
His room? Chen Ling pauses, thoughtful, then smirks: "Sure, hold on a sec."
Yaxi doesn't usually fetch underwear from his room; does she keep them sorted separately?
Chen Ling slides the drawer open, and even his cool-headed nature falters at the sight inside.
This isn't just a neat stash of fancy underwear.
It's a veritable trove of sex toys.
From vibrating eggs to silicone rods, nipple clamps to bondage ropes…