Thinking that, Sue slowly turned her body, the motion tracing out alluring lines. Her apricot eyes turned hazy as she looked at Maguire.
In a soft, teasing voice she said, "Mr. Maguire, don't tell me you can't even outdrink a small woman like me. Can you do it or not?"
She even deliberately changed her tone on the last line.
Hearing the challenge, Maguire put on a stubborn, prideful face. "Come on—drink. How can a man not be up to it?" He leered at her like a shameless hound.
Seeing his act, Sue became even more convinced he was a playboy. Her sense of "justice" flared. This kind of guy has probably hurt who knows how many girls. I can't let him get away with it. Once he's wasted, I'll strip him and dump him on the street.
They kept drinking.
At last, all six bottles of Moutai lay empty, bottoms up. Maguire slumped face-first onto the table. Looking at the "dead-drunk" Maguire, Sue allowed herself a triumphant smile—but her own face was already flushed, her head spinning. Fighting through the dizziness, she asked, "Mr. Maguire? Another round?"
Maguire only snored, out cold like a dead pig. No response at all.
Good thing he left his wallet on the table, Sue thought. Otherwise I'd have to make him pay. She settled the bill, then hauled the sodden Maguire toward the door.
"Let's see what you're trying to pull, sweetheart," Maguire thought. Of course he wasn't drunk; with his monstrous physiology, there was no way Sue could drink him under.
They grabbed a cab and sped off.
In a nearby car, Mr. Fantastic, Reed Richards, watched Sue supporting the "drunk" Maguire out of the restaurant and nearly lost it. "Argh! That kid is faking it. How could a grown man lose to a woman at drinking?" He stamped the gas and tailed their taxi.
A few minutes later, the cab stopped at a hotel. Sue guided Maguire inside. Seeing this, Reed felt his whole world go green. Should I just stand here and watch? If she wants this… what do I do? No—if it really gets to that point, I have to stop it, or I'll regret it for life.
At the front desk, the receptionist blinked at the scene. I've seen drunk women brought in by men. A drunk man and the woman getting the room? First time. Sue used Maguire's wallet to book the most expensive room, then shepherded him toward the elevators.
As soon as their elevator rose, Reed hurried in from outside and rushed to the front desk. "Which room did that man and woman just take?"
Eyeing Reed's furious face, the receptionist thought, Looks like a cheater getting caught. Poor guy—his girl brings a drunk man to a hotel. Tragic. But she said, professionally, "Sorry, sir, we can't disclose guest information."
Seething, Reed spun away, stepped back outside, and stretched himself up the façade, climbing to the upper floors and slipping into the hotel.
Meanwhile, Sue had gotten Maguire into the room and dumped him onto the bed with a thud.
What's this girl trying to do? Maguire wondered.
Sue looked down at him and muttered, "Scumbag—watch how I deal with you. Once I've got photos of you sprawled out on the street…"
She'd specifically asked for a first-floor room near the road, to make her plan easier.
Chivalry demands sacrifices, she told herself, glancing at the "unconscious" Maguire. Then she shut her eyes and reached toward him.
So that's your game, huh? Maguire thought. Too bad you picked the wrong mark tonight.
Suddenly Sue's head reeled violently—the delayed kick of strong baijiu hit hard. She could usually handle three bottles, but that was with lower-proof spirits. Tonight, to really "take Maguire down," she'd ordered the top-shelf stuff. Now the backlash hit and she could barely stand. She pitched forward onto Maguire's chest.
A few seconds later, Maguire slowly opened his eyes and looked at her—flushed cheeks, golden hair, a dangerously pretty picture. He smiled. I'd planned to teach you a lesson, but you did it to yourself.
He sat up carefully and laid the passed-out Sue on the bed. Gazing at that nearly flawless figure, he told himself, I'm not the kind who takes advantage. And besides, a deadfish routine isn't my thing. But you tried to play me—I'm not letting you off that easily.
He reached a hand toward her, intending to cool her down a little.
Right then, at the window, Reed happened to see the scene. His eyes went bloodshot; his arm shot out, stretching to punch at Maguire.
In the next instant, Maguire caught Reed's elongated arm in one hand. A playful smile tugged at his lips. "I noticed you ages ago. Couldn't hold it in anymore, huh?"
Fuming, Reed glared at him. "Beat it, kid, or I won't be polite."
Maguire snorted. "The ignorant are fearless."
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