As for taking her away, it was merely a diversion he'd found in a moment of idleness. The possessiveness and predatory instincts between men were a latent fire, needing no spark to ignite.
Shen Jing was not quiet on the journey. The car's air conditioning blasted cold air, making her shiver. She sought warmth by hugging Zhou Luchen's arm, resting her chin on his shoulder, whimpering and clinging to him. Zhou Luchen coldly removed her hand, devoid of any tenderness. Instantly, she felt wronged.
She kicked off her high heels. "It hurts. I'm not wearing them anymore," she complained. She lifted her feet, gently resting them on the center console. There they remained, her legs slender and fair. Zhou Luchen reached out, grabbed her ankle, and mercilessly pushed it back down.
She frowned and whimpered, "Be gentle, it hurts. Rub it for me."
Zhou Luchen glanced at her sideways then, regaining his composure, returned his hands to the steering wheel and focused on driving. "Do you even remember where your home is?"
Like a frightened fawn, she shook her head at Zhou Luchen, looking pitiful and innocent.
Zhou Luchen pressed the accelerator, his voice gravelly. "To a hotel."
She obediently hummed in agreement, head down, rummaging through her bag for something unknown. She would then snuggle up to him, coquettishly calling him 'Feifei.'
"Drive slower, Feifei, or I won't treat you to dinner anymore."
"Feifei, your car smells so good."
In the deepening dusk, their breaths mingled in the confined space of the car. Her 'Feifei' remained silent.
By the time they arrived at the hotel, Shen Jing was leaning against the passenger seat, exhausted and parched. A powerful hand snaked around her waist, pulling her firmly against his arm. His potent, masculine scent enveloped her, so close it brushed the tip of her nose. A sense of familiarity washed over Shen Jing, and she obediently snuggled into his embrace. As he held her firmly by the waist, she caught the familiar fragrance of burning Bai Qinan incense.
Shen Jing stiffened abruptly. Her vision gradually cleared, and she found herself firmly straddling Zhou Luchen's waist, his other hand holding her high heels and bag. Her lips moved, but ultimately, she couldn't utter a word. She rubbed her chin against his shoulder. So solid.
What had she just done to Zhou Luchen? Had she made a fool of herself?
The only way to avoid embarrassment was to continue pretending—pretend to be drunk, to recognize no one.
She didn't dare move.
Upon entering the top-floor suite, Zhou Luchen tossed her onto the bed. The lights remained off. Shen Jing sank into the boundless darkness, her head throbbing, too dazed to think about anything else. She faintly heard footsteps.
CLICK. The bathroom light switched on, followed by the faint sound of running water.
Shen Jing lay on the bed, her mind racing as she tried to piece together how she had ended up with Zhou Luchen. Her memory was suddenly a complete blank.
After a while, Zhou Luchen emerged. The only light extinguished with him. Shen Jing instinctively shivered and burrowed under the covers. She suddenly found it impossible to maintain the pretense of drunkenness. Even in the dark, she knew Zhou Luchen could see right through her little charade.
Shen Jing obediently peeked out from under the covers. "Can you turn on the light?"
His voice was husky. "Afraid of the dark?"
Shen Jing bit her lip. "Yes, I'm scared."
Zhou Luchen seemed not to hear her. He tossed aside the towel he'd used to dry his hands, his voice detached. "You're staying here alone."
As he turned to leave, Shen Jing reached out and managed to grab the hem of his trousers. She was genuinely curious about his reasoning.
"How did you find me?"
Zhou Luchen scoffed. "Me, looking for you?"
"Zhou Luchen, why is it you?" Shen Jing tilted her head up. She couldn't discern his expression, but she could feel him leaning closer, looming over her. The shadow descended, his hot breath enveloping her.
"Remember who I am now?" His voice was low, intense.
It felt as if something was gnawing at the tip of her heart.
Shen Jing leaned in and, as if to provoke him, lightly kissed his cool, thin lips. "Thank you." As if that wasn't enough, she kissed him again. His lips were thin, cool, yet soft.
Zhou Luchen showed little emotion, but his voice held a teasing note. "What, looking for some action?"
Shen Jing slowly lifted her head. "What?"
He reached up and flicked on the light. The harsh glare made Shen Jing squint. Zhou Luchen's face was in shadow against the light, but his deep, abyssal gaze locked onto hers.
"Look up."
"I won't," Shen Jing muttered, ducking her head even lower, a blush creeping to the roots of her ears.
Zhou Luchen grabbed her by the waist, pulling her slightly forward, his still-damp palm gripping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His kisses landed erratically, growing fiercer as if he'd tasted something sweet and wanted more, becoming almost rapacious. Shen Jing instinctively clutched his arm. He pinned her feet down, one long leg half-kneeling on the bed, his palm tracing the soft curve of her waist before gliding up her back. Through the thin fabric, the searing heat of his palm pressed firmly against her back.
She could barely breathe, her mind a maelstrom.
Zhou Luchen nipped the corner of her mouth, his eyes narrowed as he mockingly observed her dazed and flustered state.
"Breathe," he ordered, his tone commanding.
Shen Jing obeyed.
"Again."
Shen Jing, utterly unpracticed in this, gasped raggedly, her breath catching in a sob, sounding utterly pitiful.