"Summer, are you cold?" Amidst the glimmering lights, his voice softly echoed, hoarse like the sound of the wind brushing through the trees.
Summer Sutton had been drinking, and the alcohol's influence kept her warm even in the snow.
She foresaw what he intended to do, and if he had asked her under normal circumstances, she would definitely feign cold to make him abandon the impulse.
However, tonight she was exceptionally honest.
The alcohol was strong enough; she even forgot to tell him any lies.
Summer Sutton glanced into his eyes and gently shook her head, "Not cold."
As soon as her voice fell, Adrian Walyon's kiss descended once more.
This time, unlike before when it was just a light peck, he kissed fiercely, as if releasing something pent up for a long time.
