In the evening, Jiang Nanshu lay in bed, unable to solve the riddle in her mind.
Lu Qingyan was no different with her now than before.
Even better than before.
So good that she felt it was somewhat unreal.
Not until the man behind her got into bed and held her slim waist, with the faint citrus scent of his shower gel spreading within their small area, did she realize it was real.
That was Jiang Nanshu's favorite scent.
So his personal items were almost a replica of Jiang Nanshu's.
Which had made Jiang Nanshu think she had returned home when she first moved in.
His large palm touched her flat stomach, fingers caressing her skin, his voice husky, "Can I?"
Seeing that Jiang Nanshu ignored him, he chuckled softly, "Wife, I miss you so much."
His kiss was hot and wet. Jiang Nanshu lay in bed staring at the ceiling, letting out a slight sigh in her heart, her creamy white arms wrapped around his neck, and she gently closed her eyes.
