Disguised as a Man, She Has Eight Men Fighting Over Her - Chapter 61 - Stealing a Kiss

“We haven’t been able to find out.”

“But every account belonging to the perpetrator’s family has been frozen. And he apparently had an accident in detention—broke his right hand. The one he used to hold the laser pointer.”

“Understood.”

Shen Qingrang rubbed a thumb over his ring.

Who could it be?

Someone had beaten him to it without leaving a trace he could follow. The feeling lodged uncomfortably in his chest.

Irritated, he tugged open his collar, stripped off his shirt, and tossed it onto the sofa. It was late before he returned to his room.

—

Deep into the night, a light rain fell outside.

Back at the hotel, Yan Ci took off his rain-soaked clothes, leaving only the black ribbon around his neck.

He returned a call.

The man who answered had a mature voice with an oppressive weight to it.

“Get your ass back here.”

Yan Ci leaned against the wall, his expression dark. “No.”

The man gave a derisive laugh. “You really are beyond saving.”

Yan Ci pressed his lips together without answering.

When the man spoke again, his voice was steeped in disgust.

“You think Dr. Xu can keep your secrets with a gun to their head? Turned gay, have you? Fucking disgusting.”

“Get back here. Don’t make me say it again.”

Yan Ci swallowed. His voice was strained. “Give me two more months.”

“Two months?” The voice grew more dangerous. “Let me think… It’s the one who joined later, isn’t it? Lin Chen?”

Yan Ci’s breath caught.

So his use of their connections today had already been discovered.

And the man knew him well enough to understand that moment of silence.

“Fine.” His voice was ice. “Let’s see whether my bullets can reach Country Z from across the ocean.”

Yan Ci closed his eyes, digging his nails into his palm. “One month.”

A few seconds of silence followed, as though the man were weighing the offer. At last, he scoffed. “Fine.”

Then his tone shifted, turning crudely intimate and probing.

“How far have you got? Fucked him yet?”

“Haven’t,” Yan Ci said.

The sneer came at once. “Useless.”

Dark emotion churned in Yan Ci’s eyes. Through nearly gritted teeth, he finished, “…had enough of it.”

The man erupted.

“Yan Ci! Fuck your mother!”

“Ha. Yan Shi, you really—”

Yan Ci was about to say more when light footsteps sounded in the corridor behind him.

His gaze sharpened. He ended the call at once.

Lin Cheng felt her way into the living room, so thirsty she was light-headed. She was starting to regret not accepting that glass of water from Shen Qingrang.

In the darkness, she could just make out a low voice coming from the corner.

It stopped abruptly as she approached.

Yan Ci recognized her the instant she appeared.

He reached for the shirt on the sofa and put it on.

But it was perfectly dry and carried a pine scent. Shen Qingrang’s.

“Is that Qin—Qingrang?”

Lin Cheng stopped and asked softly.

Yan Ci went still. After a long moment, he forced a vague sound from his throat.

“…Mm.”

He didn’t know why he had answered.

Perhaps he wanted to be the person she instinctively called for.

At his response, Lin Cheng seemed to relax. A little imperiousness crept into her manner, so naturally that she didn’t notice it herself.

She held out a small hand.

“Thirsty. Water.”

So this was how she and Shen Qingrang behaved when they were alone?

In silence, Yan Ci fetched a glass of warm water.

When he returned, Lin Cheng had her eyes closed and her face tilted slightly up. Her small nose twitched.

It was Shen Qingrang’s scent, all right, though there seemed to be something else mixed into it. She gave it no further thought.

Yan Ci placed the glass in her outstretched hand, his fingertips lingering for a moment on her warm skin.

She lowered her head to drink. He stood a step away and watched, his gaze resting heavily on her wet lips.

Would they taste the same as they had in his dream?

His fingers curled slightly at his side.

At last, Lin Cheng finished and handed back the empty glass.

“Thank you, Qingrang.” Her voice was drowsy and languid. Then she remembered something and asked softly, “Could you take my choker off? I can’t undo the clasp at the back.”

She paused, another thought occurring to her.

“Don’t turn the light on yet. I’m not wearing my eye mask. Let me go get—”

Before she could finish, Yan Ci untied the soft black ribbon from his neck.

He laid the silk over her eyes, then switched on the living room’s ceiling light.

Reaching behind her neck, he undid the tiny clasp, slipped the choker off, and put it in his trouser pocket.

He lowered his gaze to her.

The black ribbon covered most of her face, leaving only her small chin and lips, still glistening with water.

Under the light, her slender neck lay completely exposed to his gaze, fragile enough to seem as though it might snap at a touch.

One month.

Only one month left.

Yan Ci suddenly stepped closer and bent his head, trapping her in the shadow between his body and the wall.

Feeling his warm breath, Lin Cheng immediately shrank back, only to meet the wall.

“Shen Qingrang, are you going to kiss me again?”

Again?

Yan Ci ground the word over and over in his mind.

He watched her beneath lowered lashes for a long time. His voice came out rough.

“…Mm.”

Lin Cheng raised her hand, setting a slender finger between their lips.

The pad was soft and smooth, resting warmly against the seam of his mouth.

Yan Ci went still for a beat.

Three seconds later, his throat moved. His long fingers closed around her narrow wrist, and he opened his mouth, taking the index finger at his lips inside.

Lin Cheng jolted.

She instinctively tried to pull back, but Yan Ci held her wrist fast.

“You…”

Her voice cut off.

The delicate, sensitive skin of her finger felt the light press of his teeth. He held it at the knuckle, moving gently back and forth now and then, its pad resting against his tongue.

…He had her finger in his mouth.

Lin Cheng’s heart skipped. Tiny goose bumps rose all over her, and her mind went blank.

Yan Ci’s expression was calm, yet there was a strange fervor in it if one looked closely. His fingers stroked her wrist as he played with her hand with absorbed attention.

“You! You—haven’t I hit you enough?” Her words came fast and breathless.

The only answer was another “Mm.”

The wet sensation moved from the pad of her finger to its side.

Every nerve in her body seemed to have gathered at that fingertip. This was torture. A kiss would be better, she thought.

As though he had sensed it, Yan Ci released her finger.

Click.

The living room went dark again, and the black ribbon fell from her eyes to the floor.

Yan Ci had already caught her chin and pressed his lips to hers.

So sweet.

Was this how he kissed you, too?

But what did it matter?

What did it matter? I’ve kissed you now.

Yan Ci’s tongue parted her teeth and swept inside.

He was clearly holding himself back, yet the traces of roughness and urgency betrayed him. There was nothing harmless about this man.

He drew her into the kiss, advancing and retreating, refusing to let her go while allowing her just enough room to breathe.

Lin Cheng struggled for air beneath his mouth.