My drinking capacity is not very good all the time, and what I was fed by that fat man must be strong liquor. I am in a trance. I just feel a sharp look at me, and then I don't know anything. When I wake up again, my head is aching, my mouth is thirsty, and I have a good hangover.

I lay on my back in bed, gasping with my mouth. When I had a good breath, my head was a little clear, and I found that this was a strange room.

Looking at the gorgeous chandelier on that day, if I guess correctly, this should be the presidential suite of a hotel.

I have his feeling of knitting. In my mind, I'm still a girl who doesn't know the world, OK?

He put his hand on the wall next to my cheek and breathed out: "did we sleep? Didn't your body feel it?"

He had come to me, but I was forced to the corner by him, and my body was close to the cold wall.

"You're lying!" I retort instinctively.

"I said we were asleep."

"Ah?"

He spoke clearly, and he replied, "I'm asleep."

He came to me, and every step he took, I stepped back.

I licked my lips and asked him, "what happened to us last night?"

No, why should I describe a man who is likely to do something to me as a lily?

White pullover with light jeans, the whole person fresh like a lily.

When I saw him, I could not help pinching my collar, but he was already dressed.

I put on my clothes, and the man flashed out of nowhere, like a ghost.

I found my bag in the room, took out a medicine bottle from it, swallowed one, and felt more comfortable psychologically.

The clothes fit very well, even the underwear fits, and there is a faint smell of washing liquid.

I can't care too much. I'll take it up and wear it.

A pile of clothes was put on the bed, from inside to outside.

I lifted the corner and looked out. He was no longer in the room.

There was something on the bed, and then there were footsteps.

I was stunned, so naked body lying on his body, maintain such a position for at least a few seconds, and then wake up like a dream to push him away, hiding himself in the sheet, yelling at him: "take my clothes!"

Because I didn't wear clothes, I forgot, and he was also half naked, so our skin close, I feel my face suddenly hot up, the whole body of blood in urgent and restless flow.

But when I fell on him and didn't bite him, I thought I had done something wrong.

I want to jump on it and bite hard. I don't only think so, but also do so.

He spread out the palm of my hand and carefully checked whether I had broken my hand. He ignored my question just now.

Shouldn't my hero be sang Shixi?

Wait, why do I say he's the hero?

Although this kind of nonsense is very useless.

"What have you done to me?" The heroine always wakes up in such a strange bed.

What kind of routine is this? I'm totally confused.

But he held my hand: "didn't it hurt you?"

I looked at him in amazement: "why don't you hide?"

But he didn't. I slapped him on his left cheek accurately and loud.

I didn't punch fast enough. His strong muscles should be working out. He should be able to avoid it.

I was stunned for a long time before I reached out and hit him in the face: "you rascal!"

Because I'm too good-looking, maybe it's easy to lose my sense of defense.

The fat man touched me last night, and I stomped and bit him, but now I'm touched by the beautiful half naked thief in front of me, and I won't resist.

His fingers gently fiddle with my hair, slightly cool fingertips in my forehead to sweep.

I don't know him, and it seems that he's on me. How can it be like I'm on him.

What does he think I'm doing?

He looks younger, but why do I see a lot of pain in his eyes? He looks at me sad and sad as if he is going through something particularly painful.

To tell you the truth, he is a good-looking prostitute, which can be described as amazing. I think this word can only be used in Sang Shixi, but this face seems to be more attractive than sang Shixi.

"You thief."

I stared at his face to say something, but after holding it for a long time, only a few words came out.

I gasped and held his wrist. Now I'm naked and call the doctor. Do I want to live?

He was still naked, and his hair was dripping. His long, well-defined fingers covered my forehead and asked anxiously, "what's wrong with you? I'll call the doctorI felt that something in his eyes hit me, and an inexplicable sense of familiarity hit me like a bullet. My heart ached and I couldn't speak.

He had just taken a bath, and under his wet hair were a pair of wise and deep eyes.

He helped me lie down on the bed. I opened my eyes and finally saw the man sitting by my bed.

I couldn't care too much. I took the glass and gulped it down. Then I took the hand again.

When my headache is about to explode, I can compare the voice of this man with that of the fat man. It's amazing.

It's not like the voice of the fat man. It's thousands of times better than his voice.

A glass of water passed to my mouth, a gentle male voice floating on my head: "drink a little water first, are you uncomfortable?"

I really want to get rid of him, but now I have no strength.

At this time, I heard the sound of footsteps. Someone sat by the bed and pressed my shoulder.

I can't find the medicine, two hands on the temple, the whole person crawling on the bed.

But waking up in a hotel room after getting drunk seems like a familiar scene. I've experienced the same scene in different places.

My mind is particularly chaotic, as if there are many pieces of memory in my mind shuttle, trying to put it together, but still can not put it together.

I have a headache again. Every once in a while, I will have a headache. I have to take medicine when I have a headache. Otherwise, the pain is unbearable.

I have a bad headache, and I look for my bag everywhere regardless of whether I'm dressed or not.

I can't. my head hurts. I can't breathe.

I'm not going to be given anything by that fat, fat man, right?

No?

I'm all red, and I don't even have a piece of cloth.

Is it so exciting for me to open the sheet on my body?

I quickly look to the side, there are traces of sleep.

Anyway, I didn't know before I got sick. Although I had a boyfriend after I got sick, I never slept with him. How can I know how I feel the next day after sleeping?

I gritted my teeth: "if you insist on saying that, I'll call the police!"

All of a sudden, he handed the mobile phone under my nose: "yes."

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