Chapter 281 Henry, We Shouldn't Be Doing This
At 8 PM, Henry took Grace to a club.
Grace thought it was a business thing, but nope, it wasn't just about business. Most of the guys there were Henry's old buddies, looking for favors, and they had a bunch of young, pretty women with them.
One of the girls plopped down right next to Henry.
This girl had no clue who Grace was and got super cozy with Henry, being all sweet and attentive. She'd even lean on his arm and giggle now and then. Henry, not wanting to kill the vibe, just let it slide.
His white shirt ended up with some perfume and faint lipstick marks.
Grace sat on the other side, watching Henry soak up the attention from these women, seeing how smooth he was in these situations. For some reason, it made her really uncomfortable, and she couldn't help but think of Cynthia again.
When the room's atmosphere was just right, Grace excused herself to go to the restroom.
She turned on the golden faucet, splashed some cold water on her flushed face, and looked at herself in the mirror.
She wasn't dumb; she felt like Henry was playing her. He was doing this on purpose!
Whether it was Cynthia or the girl tonight, he was doing it on purpose. Why did he want to mess with her? Was it just a game to him? Did he think she was fun to toy with?
Suddenly, she saw another reflection in the mirror—it was Henry.
Henry stood there, looking perfect under the crystal lights. Even after two bottles of red wine, his gaze was still deep and unreadable. He stared at her so openly.
His gaze was totally different from how he looked at the women in the room earlier.
When he looked at those women, it was casual, but every time he looked at her, it was intense, like he was undressing her with his eyes.
Grace's body trembled slightly. She leaned weakly against the wall, looking up at this dangerous man. For a moment, she thought about running away.
Maybe she should quit and find another job. Just as the thought crossed her mind, Henry put out his cigarette and said lightly, "Let's go. The driver is waiting downstairs."
Grace was surprised that he wanted to leave at 9 PM, but she didn't ask.
After getting into the black car, she stayed quiet. Henry leaned over and pressed a button, raising a partition that blocked the driver's view.
Grace crossed her arms and ignored him.
Henry stared at her, his index finger hooking into his tie knot, gently loosening it. He asked softly, "Are you mad because of that girl?"
Grace turned her face away. "No!"
Henry chuckled lightly. "Then why do you look like a wife whose husband has cheated?"
Grace couldn't stand his questioning. She turned her head sharply and said with emphasis, "I said I'm not!"
"Really?" Henry's gaze was slightly arrogant, a look that was very attractive to women.
He slowly unbuttoned two buttons on his shirt, feeling a bit more comfortable as his neck was freed. Then he pulled Grace onto his lap.
Grace was stunned. Before she could react, Henry kissed her on her lips, not playfully, but cherishingly. He kissed her while looking down at her, his voice gentle. "Your eyes are red, and you still say you're not?"
Grace wanted to argue, but he took the opportunity to kiss her deeply.
He held her waist tightly, his kiss deep and urgent, filled with desire as if he wanted to devour her, expressing his intense need.
Grace had never experienced this before. She struggled, her body rubbing against his, sending electric currents through her.
Henry suddenly held her waist, his eyes filled with affection. He whispered hoarsely for her to stop moving, saying he couldn't hold back.
Grace looked down and saw the obvious bulge in his trousers.
She didn't dare move anymore. In the cramped car, she had no choice but to hold onto his neck, letting out a low moan as Henry gripped her waist.
He didn't go all the way, but the slight rocking of the moving car, combined with the forbidden thrill, made it hard for both of them to control themselves, especially since Henry had been drinking red wine. He gently caressed her face, his voice low and hoarse, "Grace, I want you so badly it hurts."
Grace was overwhelmed. She clung tightly to his neck, not letting him move. Leaning on his shoulder, she murmured, "Henry, why do you torment me? We're from different worlds. I might even have a husband."
"Are you really going to hold back your desires for someone who doesn't even exist?" Henry asked.
Grace didn't respond. She despised herself while craving his tenderness. She realized how easy it was to fall.
Her face pressed against his neck, and she noticed that Henry had a fever.
Henry still had lingering issues from Taylor's surgery. He hadn't taken care of himself after getting caught in the rain last time, and now he had a high fever.
Grace called a doctor to treat him. Fortunately, by early morning, his fever had subsided to below 102 degrees Fahrenheit.
Grace sighed in relief.
Henry, wearing pajamas, leaned against the large bed. He wanted to take a shower, but Grace stopped him. "The doctor said you can shower after the fever goes down. Lie down first, and I'll bring you some soup."
Her rare tenderness made Henry quietly watch her under the light—her blonde hair, delicate face, and soft skin... She had gained some weight recently, making her look more precious.
He almost thought that nothing had happened, that Grace had never left him, and she hadn't lost her memory.
She had always been by his side, and this time it was just a common cold. She was taking care of him as usual. Henry's gaze softened, no longer cold.
After a while, he agreed.
Grace went to the attached kitchen to make soup for him. Unexpectedly, he didn't listen and still got up to take a shower. Clean and refreshed, he waited for her soup in the living room.
Grace brought the soup over, and Henry didn't move, clearly indicating he wanted her to feed him.
Grace lowered her gaze, her long lashes trembling slightly.
Earlier, when Henry was half-conscious, she had already made a decision to leave Henry and start a new life. He was too dangerous.
Before leaving, since he was sick, she was willing to indulge him.
Actually, if she thought about it, aside from his mood swings and his tendency to take advantage of her, he wasn't that bad. He had never really made things difficult for her.
Most of their intimate moments were half-consensual.
Grace sat beside Henry, feeding him considerately, and said softly, "After you finish eating, get some sleep. You should be better by morning."
Henry stared at her intently, his eyes filled with a man's desire. He always looked at her like this.
Grace lowered her head slightly, not resisting him as he pulled her close. She had already decided to leave him, so this would be the last time.
Grace knew in her heart that she liked him. But she resisted this feeling; to be precise, she was afraid.
Because she didn't believe a man like him could truly care for her, nor did she believe they had a future. She was tormented by moral constraints and let him slip his hand into her dress, pulling apart the thin fabric.
Everything was slow and deliberate.
Henry had a fever and couldn't really make love, so he just played with her, tormenting her bit by bit. His blue eyes were fixed on her reactions. She leaned on his shoulder, nestled in his arms, while the bowl of soup had long gone cold.
They shared each other's bodies.
For the first time, Grace took the initiative. She gently bit his Adam's apple, her voice low and broken. "Henry, we shouldn't be doing this."