She just couldn't understand, why did a simple lip touch from Julian Fairchild feel so intense?
Maeve Lane tried to struggle a bit, and took the chance to speak when Julian Fairchild left her lips, "You..."
Julian Fairchild pressed Maeve Lane's ravaged red lips with his thumb, anger unmistakably in his eyes, "Do you do this to all the good-looking men?"
Maeve Lane seemed to perceive something, gradually retracting her smile, her beautiful eyes gazing at him, stepping back a pace, her voice turning cold, "What exactly do you want?"
The emptiness in Julian Fairchild's arms made the night breeze seep in, bringing with it a chill.
That's how people are, once they get a taste of warmth, they crave for more.
Just like that saying — I could endure the darkness, if I had never seen the light.
For a moment, all concerns were cast aside, and Julian Fairchild wanted to say that sentence directly.
Yet, for the first time, he felt a sense of trepidation upon returning home.
