CHAPTER 55: CHAPTER 55: LAST NIGHT, YOU WORKED HARD

Morning.

When Holly woke up, her arm was sore. She groggily lifted her head, grabbed at the air a couple of times, and her body stretched before her mind was fully awake.

But halfway through her stretch, she sensed something was amiss.

Her hand was barely raised halfway before a force pulled it back.

In an instant, Holly was wide awake, slowly opening her eyes.

The first thing she saw was Blake Sinclair’s profile, close by, his eyes closed, looking much more at ease.

His hand was firmly wrapped around her waist, his palm unconsciously rubbing a couple of times.

She was practically lying on Blake Sinclair, with one leg draped over his waist and her arm around his neck, clinging to him like a koala.

This sleeping position is just too outrageous!

She carefully retracted her leg, but her ankle accidentally brushed against a certain dangerous area between his legs.

The memories from last night quickly resurfaced, replaying in her mind.

The intertwining breaths in the dark, his burning palms, and her bold touches...

Holly’s face turned red.

She could distinctly feel his body’s gradual awakening.

Her leg was stuck midair, unable to move either way, instinctively holding her breath, not daring to move.

Blake Sinclair was awakened by the movement, instinctively holding her tighter, his chin brushing against the top of her head as he lazily spoke, "Awake..."

The warm breath brushed over her head, making Holly’s whole body stiff.

Fortunately, he soon sensed his body’s reaction, opened his eyes, and met her gaze.

Blake Sinclair chuckled, with a few teasing and indulgent undertones.

"Morning."

As he spoke, his palm rubbed her waist again.

Hearing his laughter, Holly quickly looked away, hurriedly tossing off the quilt, getting out of bed, and dashed into the bathroom.

Watching her retreating figure, Blake Sinclair’s smile deepened.

He looked down at his own state, his mind repeatedly replaying her clumsy touch from the previous night, attempting to calm the stirred fire.

Abstinent for twenty-nine years, a night of indulgence, tasting the marrow and longing for more.

Indeed, once a person gets a taste of sweetness, they can’t stop.

During breakfast, Holly dared not look at the person across from her, burying her head in her food, almost trying to shove her face into her bowl.

"I’m done eating." She quickly put down her spoon, "Take your time, I’m leaving first."

Holly didn’t dare linger for another second, grabbing her bag and heading towards the door.

"Wait."

Blake Sinclair’s voice came from behind, making Holly pause, her hand tightly clutching her bag strap.

He stepped forward, took her hand, and placed something in her palm, "Remember to use it."

Holly looked down to find it was a tube of hand cream.

She quickly lifted her head, meeting his smiling eyes.

Blake Sinclair leaned in slightly, whispering in her ear, "Last night, you worked hard."

The buzzing in her head made her mind go blank.

Holly felt like she was holding a chunk of iron instead of hand cream, her hand trembling slightly, almost dropping it.

She didn’t know where to look, her eyes falling on his eyes occasionally, then on his throat, finally squeezing out, "No... don’t mention it."

After speaking, she dared not stay. She quickly opened the door and fled, her retreating figure full of panic.

Watching the closed door, Blake Sinclair chuckled lightly.

The road to pursuing his wife is long, but...

He was satisfied with last night.

.....

Holly initially thought she would need a long time to accept living together with Blake Sinclair, but in just a few days, she found she had already accepted this.

Ever since he moved in, the house had gained a sense of liveliness.

A genuine kind.

From the warm breaths on her neck when waking up in the morning, to the aroma from the kitchen, and more matching items around the house, from cups to slippers to sleepwear...

The flowers in the vase were never absent, with Holly receiving 52 pink lychees almost daily, under the name of ’life needs a sense of ceremony’.

Interestingly, every time the previous bouquet started to wilt, the new one would appear just in time as if he had predicted it.

Life went on as usual, except that since that night, they hadn’t progressed further.

Every evening besides his routine goodnight kiss, there was no further action.

He didn’t verbalize it, and she didn’t inquire.

When Celia learned of this, she clicked her tongue twice.

"Senior, don’t you think it’s a bit too coincidental?" Celia asked, resting her chin in her hand, her eyes full of inquiry.

"I have an inexplicable feeling, ever since you got your marriage license with President Sinclair, I had a hunch. It’s all like it’s too smooth, as if deliberately arranged."

She leaned closer to Holly, "Does President Sinclair truly have no other intentions? It’s impossible he’s after money, so could it be that he’s after you?"

Holly didn’t reply.

Actually, in recent days, she had a similar premonition.

Blake Sinclair was too good to her, noticing many details she herself didn’t care about but he understood profoundly.

She didn’t understand his intentions, nor what was hidden in this kindness.

After her?

But they had barely known each other long...

Celia saw her conflicted expression and waved her hand, "Forget it, it doesn’t matter! Let’s tackle the main issue first!"

"Main issue?"

She leaned in and whispered, "Honestly, at your pace... could it be that President Sinclair isn’t up to it!"

"Celia!"

Holly’s face instantly turned red, "You weren’t like this before, who led you astray!"

Celia’s face flashed a quick, imperceptible look of embarrassment, covering it up by saying, "No one led me astray, that’s impossible."

Holly squinted slightly.

Celia shook her head so fast it seemed to blur.

They teased each other before customers arrived, prompting her to tend to them.

Before leaving, Celia didn’t forget to wink at her, "Senior, to learn the truth, you just need to try, take the plunge!"

Holly hurriedly urged her to attend to the customers, but her thoughts lingered on what she said.

She had witnessed Blake Sinclair’s desire, familiar with his heat and vigor, yet their interactions had only reached that end-of-the-night goodnight kiss these past few days.

Several times, she could feel his impending desire, sensing his arm tightening around her.

But the next second, he would release her, only to whisper, ’Sleep,’ then hold her from behind at a non-invasive distance.

Could it really be as Celia said?

Blake Sinclair, is he... not capable?

But that’s not how it seems...

Realizing what she was thinking, Holly covered her face and shook her head, trying to clear away the chaotic thoughts.

Forget it, let this matter unfold naturally; otherwise, she would appear too hasty.

The entire afternoon, Holly devoted herself to pottery, oblivious to her phone running out of battery and shutting down.

Until nearing sunset, Celia approached her with her own phone, "Senior, President Sinclair’s call came to me."