When Ye Cheng's tall figure was about to press down, a crisp ringing of a bell sounded untimely. It was like suddenly splashing him with cold water, instantly extinguishing his swelling desire.
He looked down at the charming and beautiful woman beneath him, his pupils contracted fiercely.
What am I doing?
Damn!
Noticing the man was about to leave, Zimei hurriedly reached out to grab his wrist: "A Cheng, don't go."
Ye Cheng's lips pressed tightly, staring at the woman's flushed face for a few seconds, then resolutely pulled his hand back.
When he got up, the phone ringing stopped, but soon it rang again.
Ye Cheng dressed while answering the phone: "Old Xi, what's up?"
Zimei lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Feeling unusually pathetic.
She had proactively gotten into his bed, yet Ye Cheng still wouldn't have her; this kind of pursuit felt so cheap.
Should this really continue?
