The warmth from the man's palm spread upward from her ankle, soon pervading her entire body.
"Stand firm."
Wen Qiao hummed twice, "Got it."
The shoe was easily pulled out by the man, and Wen Qiao regained her freedom. She stomped her foot and muttered softly in complaint, "What a design, it's just restricting us ladies who wear high heels for nothing..."
A laugh came from above her head, and Wen Qiao immediately looked up and glared, "What are you laughing at, what's there to—"
Her words were cut off as the man suddenly leaned in, and Wen Qiao, seeing the handsome face so close, stuttered, "What are you—what are you doing?"
"It's not that I meant to overhear you talking. Don't be angry, okay?"
The man's hot breath on her face, mixed with the scent of fir and a hint of alcohol, was mesmerizing in the summer night.
Wen Qiao felt her heartbeat gradually accelerate, her mind went blank, yet subconsciously, she felt the environment was unsafe for her.
