She hadn’t done much, yet he felt like his soul was lost.
He let her go, turned around, and went downstairs.
At tis like this, he wanted to smoke.
The scent of nicotine could suppress the evil fire within him and his agitated nerves.
With this thought, Sylvan Cheney went to the car and lit a cigarette.
After one cigarette, he felt a lot better.
He brought Jasmine Yale’s things upstairs; the secluded apartnt was filled with a serene and tranquil atmosphere.
The bedroom light was on, the orange glow reflected on the gray blanket and the sleeping Jasmine Yale.
Upon opening the bedroom door, he didn’t hurry in but leaned against the doorfra, squinting his eyes and watching for a long ti.
Just watching.
The apartnt, once cold and empty, suddenly felt more alive.
He thought he didn’t like noise, didn’t like crowds, preferred to live alone, enjoyed plain tranquility, and never imagined what it would be like to have soone else at ho.
But now he felt that this feeling was quite nice.
The house, once cold and colorless, had beco vibrant, full of many things belonging to a woman.
Even the once empty table was filled by her with makeup and small dolls.
He didn’t find it abrupt; instead, it was quite holy.
He just leaned against the door watching for a long ti.
Jasmine Yale wasn’t asleep; she blinked tiredly, lazily, not wanting to move.
"I sll smoke."
Sylvan Cheney laughed, walked over, and squatted by the bed, "You have a keen nose. I just went out to smoke a cigarette."
"Did you bring everything upstairs? Could you help organize? I’m so tired."
"Let carry you to bathe; you can sleep after." Sylvan Cheney stretched out his cool fingers and nudged her neck.
Jasmine Yale shivered, now fully awake, and reached out to swat Sylvan Cheney, "You’re so annoying."
Sylvan Cheney seized the opportunity to lift her up, holding her fragile body close.
"It’s inconvenient for you to move, let wash you," Sylvan Cheney insisted, undoing the hairband on her head and preparing to remove her clothes.
Jasmine Yale stood barefoot, hugging his waist, shaking her head, "I can do it myself."
"Being disobedient? I said I’d take good care of you, and of course, I’ll wholeheartedly do so, or your aunt would worry handing you over to ." Sylvan Cheney coaxed.
Jasmine Yale still seed half-asleep, unable to lift her arms.
She hugged him, "Are you trying to take advantage of ? Must be."
"Can’t I do that a little?" Sylvan Cheney lifted her knitted dress.
The shower was on, and a white mist quickly ford all around, warm and humid.
The bathroom had a nice fragrance, which fernted with the steam, growing more intense, its floral scent tinged with a sultry atmosphere.
Sylvan Cheney truly hadn’t undressed a woman before, especially a pregnant one.
One wrong move and he feared she might fall.
Jasmine Yale managed to cooperate.
Sylvan Cheney had always thought his self-control was excellent, but right now, he wasn’t doing well at all.
Her round belly stood out more prominently, emitting a unique scent of a pregnant woman.
Jasmine Yale nestled in Sylvan Cheney’s arms, her face flushed red.
Her leaning close nearly made Sylvan Cheney explode; even his palms were searing hot.
"I can wash myself, I always do at ho," Jasmine Yale felt he just wanted to take advantage of her, "I’ve a slower pace, but I really can do it."
"What are you shy about, don’t move." Sylvan Cheney refused.
"You’re just a well-dressed hypocrite." Jasmine Yale teased.
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