When she woke up early, Elise Don moved a bit, feeling a slight ache in some part of her body. She turned over, and the sweet and sticky scent of passion lingered beneath the quilt.
In her mind, images not suitable for children flashed by quickly, and she couldn't help but marvel at how someone could make foreplay so romantic and covert... Hmm, someone's seduction skills have improved significantly now.
Otherwise, how else would she have ended up getting tangled up with him so muddledly?
Wearing the masterpiece she had created for more than a month, only to watch him mess it up with his stuff on the hem of the dress.
Damn it!
Thinking of this, Elise Don got out of bed barefoot, squatting on the floor, trying to save that fishtail skirt.
The liquid had dried, forming a yellowish circle about the size of a palm. Elise Don scratched it with her hand, to no effect.
How could she have the nerve to send this to a dry cleaner?
