Seeing her coughing so violently, Seth Quinn grew a little worried. He’d only said those things to try and close the distance between them, to get rid of the awkwardness that had sprung up yesterday.
He stood up and leaned forward. Clara Grant was already half-draped over the table from coughing, and he gently patted her back to help her catch her breath. "I just washed your underwear, that’s all," he said. "Don’t be so overwheld. Be careful you don’t cough up a lung."
Clara honestly couldn’t tell if he’d been joking or telling the truth. She didn’t know if he was genuinely worried about her or just continuing to tease her.
Once her coughing fit subsided and so of her strength returned, Clara Grant slapped his hand away. "Are you a pervert?" she said, flushed with a mix of sha and anger. "Why would you give a bath, change my clothes, and wash them?"
’And my underwear, too! That’s sothing a man only does for a woman if they’re in a really intimate relationship, right?’
’We’re not that close, are we?’
Seth Quinn’s hand was flung aside. Seeing that she had stopped coughing, he didn’t press the issue and sat back down in his seat. "You were drunk," he said, feigning innocence. "You couldn’t bathe yourself, so of course I had to help you."
"I... I was drunk! You should have just let sleep! Why did you have to give a bath?" Clara retorted, her face red. ’It’s not like skipping one shower would kill .’
"But you threw up all over yourself. How could you sleep without a shower?" Maybe it was the alcohol combined with so motion sickness, because even though he’d driven very smoothly, she still threw up when they got ho. Fortunately, she hadn’t gotten any on him.
Still, the sll was sothing he would never forget.
’So it turns out that no matter how beautiful or sweet-slling a woman is, the sll of her drunken vomit is just as foul.’
Clara frowned. ’Did I throw up? I don’t rember that at all. But...’
"Even so, you... you didn’t have to wash my... my underwear, did you? And by hand!" Her voice grew quieter as she spoke, and she bit her lip, looking utterly mortified.
"Aren’t undergarnts always best washed by hand?" Seth said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, showing no sign of embarrassnt.
"I..."
Clara was at a loss for words. Realizing it was pointless to argue with him, she stopped trying and lowered her head to continue eating her congee. But then, as if she’d suddenly rembered sothing, her head shot up, her face a mask of suspicion.
"You, you, you... when you were... bathing , you didn’t... do anything to ...?"
Before she could even finish, Seth calmly cut her off. "Relax. I’m not into doing it with won who reek of alcohol."
Even as he said this, the image of her snowy-white, delicate, and exquisite body from when he’d bathed her the day before had already surfaced in his mind.
’Just looking at her had made his mouth go dry, let alone having to touch her to wash her. Her skin... it was so incredibly smooth it made his blood surge.’
’And if that wasn’t enough, the woman, delirious from the alcohol, seed to have had her sleep disturbed by the bath. She started acting out, drunkenly rubbing herself all over him.’
’If he hadn’t promised her a three-month grace period, if he hadn’t been afraid she’d wake up and hate him for breaking his word, he would have pinned her down in the bathtub right then and there.’
’Right then, he had made a resolution: he could never let her get that drunk again. What if she "acted out" like that with another man?’
"Is that so?" Clara suddenly sneered. ’Why did she find him so hard to believe?’
"Then what about the first ti? Wasn’t I drunk then, too? You still devoured all the sa, didn’t you?"
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