Chapter 90: Bo Yanching You Woke Me Up

He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t.

At this point, he should have held back, but touching her was like touching poison; he couldn’t extricate himself and found himself kissing her lips twice more.

Then, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his fingers lifting her upper body, pulling her tightly into his embrace.

“You little rascal…”

Bo Yanching’s thin lips brushed her ear as he let out a low, suppressed breath, “Why aren’t you pretending to be asleep anymore?”

Nan Jiaojiao furrowed her brows.

She nudged her head against the pillow, her hand gently touched his jawline, and Bo Yanching tilted his head accordingly, his deep gaze locking onto her from above.

Nan Jiaojiao caressed his lips, moving from left to right and again from the corner of his right mouth to his left, repeating the gesture several times.

Her fingertips were smooth, without a hint of callus, a product of pampering; their soft touch sent tingles to his heart, and Bo Yanching, unable to bear it, caught her hand and whispered softly, “Behave.”

“You woke me up,” she said.

“Mhm.”

Bo Yanching looked deeply at her, wishing he could capture her in his pupils and drown in this pond of adoration.

“So will you sleep?”

Nan Jiaojiao nodded, “Yes, sleeping.”

He asked, “Shall I join you?”

His voice was incredibly soft, tender, the tone rich and husky, laced with an enticing sexiness.

A blatant seduction.

Nan Jiaojiao felt her legs go light.

She pushed him away slightly, her brows lightly knitted, “Have you been drinking?”

She really was unreserved in her disdain for him when she felt like it.

Bo Yanching came clean, “Had two shots of liquor and smoked two cigarettes, did it bother you?”

“Yeah.”

“Should I go wash up?” Bo Yanching ventured to ask.

Without a word from Nan Jiaojiao, she pondered whether he was subtly asking for her permission, wanting to stay.

However, Bo Yanching mistook her dazed silence for consent, kissed her fingers, and rose from her side to go to the bathroom.

The light shone through, and Nan Jiaojiao’s mind cleared slightly as she suddenly sat up in bed.

She stared straight at the closed glass door.

The silhouette of the man undressing was reflected on the door, his body’s contours both blurred and distinct, especially at that angle, which revealed everything that was meant to be seen.

Her breathing quickened, her exhalation hot, making her lips sting and itch, unsure whether it was from his intense kisses or some unnamed critters wreaking havoc in her heart.

Bo Yanching showered swiftly; when he came out of the bathroom, his body was wrapped in a bath towel, water droplets undried, with several trickling down along his muscle lines, over the ridges of his abs, along the lines framing his pelvis, disappearing into the white towel.

Wrapped around his waist, it was damp.

His first look was toward Nan Jiaojiao, sitting on the bed; she had risen directly from a lying position, her back empty, some distance from the headboard, now looking down and fiddling with a cigarette.

“Felt like smoking?”

Before his shower, he had taken off his watch and phone, and his pack of cigarettes, placing them all on the nightstand.

She didn’t touch the phone, but what did playing with a cigarette mean?

His abrupt voice startled her, making her body tremble; she looked up to find Bo Yanching staring intently at her, a hint of a smile on his lips, softly laughing.

With a touch of dignity, she pinched the cigarette between her fingers, lifting it to show him, “Is this how you hold it?”

“No.”

Bo Yanching sat beside her, reached out, and adjusted the cigarette she was holding between her index and middle finger, moving it up one knuckle.

“This is how you hold a cigarette, let me teach you.”