Instead of resting his head on the armrest of the sofa, he had his neck supported by it, so his head leaned slightly back, and the prominent Adam's apple and neck lines appeared elegantly decadent and sensual in the dim light.
The two-seater sofa was too narrow for him, with one leg bent and the other stretched out beyond the sofa.
"Bo Yanching?"
Nan Jiaojiao bent over and asked, "Are you okay?"
The man didn't respond.
In this posture, she had little patience.
After asking, she was about to stand up.
Bo Yanching suddenly hooked her waist and pulled her back.
He sat up, wrapped her in his arms, and a strong breath blew against the back of her neck as he rested his chin on Nan Jiaojiao's shoulder, eyes still closed, "Why did you come over?"
Feeling uncomfortable, Nan Jiaojiao struggled, but the hand around her waist tightened, not forcefully, yet giving her no chance to escape.
"Didn't you say you felt uncomfortable?"
