Chapter 74 Chapter 74
He leaned back slightly and lifted his head to watch her leave.
Grace walked with remarkable composure, occasionally pausing to chat with her mother on the steps before continuing upward.
But the moment the door closed behind her, she seemed transformed. She gulped down the milk in several large swallows, grabbed her handbag from the sofa, and ran into the bedroom.
The phone lay discarded beside the bed, still ringing. Her mother's voice droned on, and though Grace occasionally mumbled a response, she had no idea what she'd said.
Her heart pounded wildly, and her hands trembled slightly from the tension. Yet, her movements remained swift and precise.
The powder in the compact had long been replaced with the finest grade. Using a brush, Grace lightly dusted the exterior of the glass cup, revealing the clear fingerprints etched upon it—his and hers. Without pausing to distinguish them, she held her breath, applied adhesive tape, and lifted every fingerprint and ridge pattern cleanly.
The entire process took no more than five minutes, but it felt like half a century to her. Only after wiping the glass clean and stowing everything else in her leather bag did she slowly exhale.
"Grace! Answer me! Are you even listening?” her mother snapped, her voice laced with anger. "Who exactly is this Benjamin? Tell me the truth. Have you been spending time with him these past few days?"
Grace snapped back to reality. "Mom, stop making assumptions. I haven't been with anyone. I've been staying in the dorm!"
She said this as she gathered her leather bag, coat, and other belongings and stepped out of the room.
Benjamin had finished breakfast and was heading upstairs. Hearing Grace's last words, a mischievous impulse struck him. He paused on the stairs and called out, "Grace, do you need a ride to work?"
She froze at the sound of his voice. The next moment, her mother's sharp voice rang out over the phone: "Grace! Who's that? Who is this man? Who are you staying with?"
Grace was mortified. She glared at Benjamin with hatred, but her mouth was already spinning lies. "What man? That was just the TV. Mom, you misheard. Oh, I'm running late! I have to get to work. I'll call you back!"
Without waiting for her mother's response, she hurriedly hung up.
Benjamin couldn't help but laugh. He teased her, "Didn't your mom ask what channel you were watching?"
She didn't answer, stomping down several steps. Glaring at him, she demanded angrily, "Is it funny? Benjamin, are you a child?"
Benjamin loved watching her get angry when he was in a good mood. She was like a provoked cat, and though there was a risk of getting scratched, it was fun nonetheless.
He tilted his head back and smiled at her as he answered, "Yes."
She was speechless, her face darkening as she descended the stairs. But as she passed him, he suddenly grabbed her arm.
Before she could react, she was pinned against the wall.
His arm wrapped around her waist, and he lowered his gaze. A mischievous smile played on his lips. "Did you like my drink?" he murmured.
Her heart skipped a beat. Completely baffled, she feared he had noticed something was off. "What?" she asked nervously.
His smile deepened. He raised his hand and wiped the milk from the corner of her lips with his finger. Then, he pinched her delicate chin, pressing his thumb gently against it and forcing her mouth to part slightly.
He lowered his head and gently bit her lower lip. "I asked if the milk tasted good. Want to try something else?"
She froze, finally understanding his words. Her face flushed scarlet, and she pushed him away forcefully. Shouting in shame and anger, she said, "Pervert!"
"I've always been a pervert. It's not like you just found out today," he chuckled, leaning in again. In a low, amused voice, he suggested, "We've got time to spare. How about we try something different?"
She distinctly felt the changes in his body. Persisting would only fuel his desire. It was better to try a different approach. Besides, those things were hidden in her purse—she absolutely couldn't let them be discovered.
Weighing her options, she lifted her eyes to meet his, softening her tone as she pleaded, "Stop it. I have to supervise the first session today. I really can't be late.”
This cunning woman could change her expression faster than anyone. A few moments ago, she was glaring at him angrily. Now, her voice was soft and gentle. He hated it—he absolutely hated it. Looking at her, he couldn't bring himself to pull down his pants and take what he wanted.
He felt both hatred and love for her. He shifted his weight deliberately, slamming into her hard. His voice hoarse, he demanded, "You've got to give me some other kind of compensation."
She bit her lip and hesitated, her cheeks flushing crimson. Finally, she reached up and grabbed his collar. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to press her lips to his despite her embarrassment and anger. He was determined to be mischievous. Seeing her lean in, he straightened his body on purpose. As a result, her kiss landed squarely on his chin.
She froze, looking at him with a puzzled expression.
The coldness usually on his face vanished as he smiled. "That shows some sincerity."
She was embarrassed and furious, wishing she could pounce and bite him. She tossed the leather purse and coat she'd been holding down the steps, wrapped her arms around his neck, and rose on tiptoes to bite his lips.
He knew how maddening her kisses could be, remembering that time in the hillside villa when she’d forced herself on him. Her tongue was wet, slippery, soft, yet firm; cunning and infuriating like a devil. It had left him unable to think of anything but sex. Even now, though he no longer needed to dodge her advances and fought back fiercely, he found himself unwittingly ensnared by her.
After a long moment, she finally pulled away, panting, and asked, "Is it enough?"
His breath was uneven, too; his lower body was growing harder and harder, almost ready to explode.
He stared at her with desire—he wanted her, now.
She cast a seductive glance downward and raised an eyebrow in surprise. Yet she placed a hand against his chest and smiled. "You must keep your promises."
Her eyes crinkled with amusement as she slowly bent her knees and lowered her body to slip out from under his arm. She hopped down two steps, bent over to grab her purse and coat, and dashed down the stairs. Calling over her shoulder, she said, "Goodbye, Mr. Norman."
This time, it was his turn to feel furious and helpless. He slammed his fist against the wall and weakly threatened, "You wait until tonight."