moonlight lure

The person in front of her rubbed her ear and comforted her: "There is a change of clothes."

Seeing the obvious doubt in her eyes, he chuckled and explained helplessly: "You bought a spare when you were in the hospital, but you didn't use it when you were discharged early. Wear your outer clothes first, and wash and dry your shirt and skirt before changing them. Okay. ?"

Song Shiwei nodded reluctantly, then suddenly remembered that he was the culprit, she frowned and kicked his knee.

He had just satiated, so he naturally responded to everything, and coaxed her in a good-tempered way: "Good boy, you take a shower first, and I'll cook."

He turned around and squeezed out a pump of hand sanitizer, turned on the faucet of the sink nearby and rubbed his hands as if nothing had happened, rubbing every finger carefully, especially the two middle ones.

When she saw it, her face immediately turned red again, she pursed her lips and turned her head silently. He glanced at her in the mirror, his lips curling up silently.

***

Thirty minutes later, Song Shiwei came out of the bathroom, wearing one of his T-shirts. It was black and very wide. It was like a slightly shorter skirt on her body.

She went to the balcony to dry her bath towel, returned to the sofa and sat down to play ball with Mori for a while. She glanced at the charging mobile phone on the coffee table. She habitually clicked on the screen. There were several missed calls on it. Notes It is a symbol of the moon.

Song Shiwei lowered her eyelashes and was slightly startled. After taking a closer look at the time, she realized that the person was herself.

She subconsciously touched the moon on her neck with her fingers, and her heart seemed to be slowly filled with an unknown substance that could not be seen or touched. It was filled like a pink balloon, making her feel inexplicably light.

The phone on the table buzzed again.

Yuan Ye: [How are you? Can you still come to work tomorrow? How much did you drink last night?]

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Song Shiwei looked at the screen and frowned slightly.

What to drink? drink wine? Didn't he go on a mission last night?

The person in the kitchen opened the door and asked her to eat.

She suppressed her suspicion and walked to the dining table. She stared at the two bowls of vegetable and egg noodles on the table for a moment, and said in a long, neither salty nor bland voice: "Sure enough, a man can only have four dishes and one soup when he is pursuing you."

Ji Yanchen laughed when he heard this and coaxed her: "I haven't turned on the fire for a week and there is nothing in the refrigerator. Can I give you eight vegetables, two soups and two desserts to make up for it next time?"

Song Shiwei sat down on the chair, deliberately put her chin on her head and picked at the noodle bowl melancholy twice with her chopsticks, without answering.

Ji Yanchen curled his lower lip helplessly, as if he liked her little workmanlike character. He put down his chopsticks and stood up: "I'll go downstairs to buy some. What do you want to eat?"

She coldly refused: "I won't bother you anymore, I'll go home and order supper later."

He said sincerely: "I also want to have a midnight snack. Can I go back with you?"

"You think beautifully."

Song Shiwei scolded him with a straight face, "You stay and drink your two bowls of clear noodle soup without leaving a drop."

He curled his lips lovingly: "As ordered. You eat first, and give me the rest."

Song Shiwei picked a small mouthful of noodles and put it in her mouth. The clear soup was watery, but the taste was nothing to say. She took the chopsticks and poked it down again, and suddenly she felt something was wrong.

She opened the top layer of noodles and saw a few shrimps and fish balls hidden underneath.

The person across the table said calmly: "Can these barely count as a meal of four dishes and one soup?"

Song Shiwei gently pursed her raised lips, raised her eyes and asked him, "What did you do last night?"

Ji Yanchen glanced at her and said, "Mission."

"What mission?" she asked.

"I met an informant." He put away his gaze and changed the topic, "Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?"

She thought for a moment: "Not yet, do you want to have dinner together?"    "I have a task tomorrow afternoon. If it ends early, I will go find you."

He raised his head and asked her as if nothing had happened, "Would you like yogurt?"

Song Shiwei looked at him silently for a few seconds: "Okay."

He got up and walked to the refrigerator, took out the yogurt, cut half a mango and mixed it in it.

Song Shiwei bit her chopsticks and looked at him from behind. When he came back, she raised her face again and asked, "What did you and the informant do all night? Why do you look so bad today?"

He seemed a little amused and rubbed her head: "Male informant, what can you do?"

She thought: "Eating? Talking? Drinking?"

The curve of Ji Yanchen's lips paused slightly. After a moment of silence, he did not deny it: "I drank a little."

Song Shiwei stared at his face: "Were you drunk?"

He should be very aware of his drinking capacity. Drinking like this is obviously excessive. He couldn't take the initiative, so he could only be forced.

He returned to his seat, and after a while, he whispered in a low voice: "The other party is a bit difficult to deal with."

Seeing that he didn't want to talk more about this topic, Song Shiwei didn't ask any more.

She herself had been forced to drink until she fell unconscious. After returning home, she vomited intermittently all night long. She had a headache and stomach pain. By the end of the vomiting, she was trembling and sweating. She leaned against the corner and felt dizzy for a long time. When I woke up the next day, my limbs and brain seemed to have been reinstalled. Only those who have experienced it can understand the pain.

She knew that she couldn't interfere with his work. When she asked him this, she was just thinking that if they didn't have a cold war, at least she could take care of him yesterday.

After dinner, she returned to the living room and sat for a while, and Song Shiwei changed back into her own clothes.

Realizing that her mood seemed a bit low, the person next to her kept pestering her for a long time, and her freshly washed face was soon chewed until it was sticky. She pretended to be angry, but he got even more enthusiastic. In the name of admitting his mistake, he leaned on her neck, licked and rubbed her and pushed her deeper into the sofa. She was so pressed that she was unable to resist, and she had no temper at all.

After he had rubbed enough against her, he raised his face to comfort her: "Baby, I'm fine."

Song Shiwei was a little breathless due to his pressure, and her voice was muffled: "I can see it."

What's wrong is that she actually thinks about feeling sorry for him. I feel sorry for this man, he is so unlucky for the rest of his life.

He bit her chin with wet teeth and asked in a low voice: "Can you take care of me next time?"

Song Shiwei wanted to nod, but then reacted: "Is there a next time?"

Ji Yanchen said innocently: "No one can guarantee an emergency. This time it was drunk, but next time it might be another accident."

"No." She turned her face away, pretending to be indifferent, "Either you protect yourself, or you don't bother me."

He looked at her with resentment: "The puppy is in trouble and needs to find its owner. How can this be called trouble?"

Song Shiwei pushed him in disgust: "Is there a puppy as heavy as you? You are obviously a super large dog, or...or, a wolf."

Ji Yanchen couldn't help but laugh after hearing this. He lowered his head and kissed her cheek, meaningfully: "Baby, wolves are not like this. You will know later."

Song Shiwei understood the meaning in his words, her cheeks felt a little warm, and she remained silent.

Just now in the bathroom, at the moment when she said she was not ready, she felt the strong and oppressive aura of lust from him. For a moment she really thought he was going to force her today. She was a little nervous, but not entirely nervous.

She is indeed not a liberal person when it comes to intimate behavior, but her ideas are not conservative or old-fashioned either.

It's not that she can't accept premarital sex, and her criterion for measuring whether it's acceptable isn't the length of the relationship. She couldn't tell what else she wanted to prepare. She was obviously satisfied with the current situation of the relationship. If he had continued with the relationship just now, she would have cooperated half-heartedly, but if she was left to decide, she still felt that something was missing.