The color of his lips was so alluring that Isabella Weaver found it hard to resist.
A grown man, how could his lips be even more rosy and beautiful than hers!
She touched them with her fingertip and shyly kissed him, mimicking Harry Hunter's technique of kissing her, sucking on his lips and tangling her tongue with his.
The air began to fill with an ambiguous and sweet aroma.
Soon, she noticed Harry Hunter's reaction.
She quickly let go of him, her face as red as a tomato: "Harry, not here!"
Harry's hand was on her thigh, gently kneading: "Then where is it okay? Hmm?"
"I'm still at work, why are you here bullying me..."
"Because I didn't get to bully you last night, you're too irresponsible. You made me sing for you, and you fell asleep on your own. Today, I need some comforting."
Isabella couldn't help but laugh: "You sang so well, I couldn't help but fall asleep."
"Oh, you mean my singing is like a lullaby?"
"No, no, it was lovely!"
"Hmm."
