Mr. Fairchild's Rose: She is Wild and Proud-Chapter 185 - 171: Defining the Relationship (Sweet, 4,500 Words)
The biggest problem is that she and Julian Fairchild originally had no contact, and now they’re entangled again.
Julian Fairchild looked at her fair little face, her cheeks slightly flushed, and his heart stirred.
He originally thought he could wait a little longer.
But... a trace of terrifying madness flashed in his eyes.
Maeve Lane... this wasn’t the first time.
Julian Fairchild considered himself to have no complexes, but when it came to Maeve Lane, just the thought drove him crazy.
He wasn’t her first man.
This awareness made him jealously lose control. Last night, he intended to let her go, but in the end, he held her hands tightly and succumbed to madness.
So, he didn’t want to wait any longer.
Whether she hated him or not, whether what Maeve said yesterday was true or not, whether Maeve loved him or not, he wanted to keep her by his side.
He didn’t care about the past anymore; he wanted only Maeve Lane now.
A moment of silence.
Maeve Lane didn’t know how to speak to Julian Fairchild.
Should she say, "It was an accident, let’s not think too much of it?" or "Forget what happened yesterday, let’s pretend I never went to the bar to pick you up last night?"
While she hesitated, the man grabbed her hand and placed a phone in it.
It was hers.
The phone interface was already open.
Maeve Lane looked puzzled, "What?"
"There’s a recording here for you to listen to," Julian Fairchild said, under her gaze, pressing play.
A sensual and alluring voice echoed in the quiet room.
And that voice, it was hers!
Maeve Lane’s eyelids twitched hard.
[I like you...]
Then came Julian Fairchild’s husky voice, as if he were trying hard to suppress his desire.
[Be good, continue.]
[I want to be with you.]
[And... say you want me.]
Maeve Lane’s calm expression finally cracked a bit. Julian Fairchild’s voice was simply unfair; even sober she found it hard to bear, let alone when she was drunk...
Sure enough, the next second she said in a playful voice, "I want you."
Maeve Lane never knew her voice could be so soft; she almost couldn’t bear to hear it.
She closed her eyes, wanting to turn off the phone, but when Julian Fairchild saw this, he actually pulled out another one, clearly his.
He smiled slightly, "I have another copy here. Do you want to listen?"
Maeve Lane: "..."
I don’t want to.
By this time, the recording had progressed to the part where she called Julian Fairchild’s name.
Her voice was utterly seductive, the epitome of wanting to refuse but welcoming, with an inexplicable innocent coyness.
Then came some indescribable sounds.
Maeve Lane felt utterly ashamed, wanting to hide her face; wasn’t she just passive? But she seemed quite proactive!
Didn’t this clearly show that she always harbored such intentions toward Julian Fairchild? Otherwise, how could she have said those things after getting drunk?
She wished she could find a hole to crawl into.
Julian Fairchild pushed Maeve Lane’s hair aside, revealing her white slender neck, and then he kissed her devotedly, whispering close to her ear, "So now, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend."
Maeve Lane wanted to pretend she didn’t hear, but her skin was so sensitive, blushing, "No."
"You want to deny it?" Julian Fairchild turned her body.
"I was drunk."
Maeve Lane got out of bed, casually finding an excuse to escape the room.
But how could Julian Fairchild allow her to leave? He pulled her into his arms, his large hand buried in her hair, "Slept and want to run away?"
Maeve Lane’s face was burning from the shame of the recording she just heard; she tried not to look at him, "We’re not suitable."
Julian Fairchild kissed the corner of her lips, rubbing against it, "Where are we not suitable? We seemed quite ’suitable’ yesterday."
After all, she was an adult; usually, she had seen such films, and discussed men with Meredith, so she quickly caught Julian Fairchild’s meaning, but as someone with little experience, her face was still too thin.
She simply stopped talking, but locked in the man’s embrace, she couldn’t move, so she could only look at him with those wide, watery eyes.
The usually feisty demeanor was nowhere to be seen; Maeve Lane in his arms seemed like a little fox being bullied.
The little fox opened its mouth, "Do you think I took advantage of you last night?"
Julian Fairchild couldn’t understand her train of thought, so he chose to remain silent.
The little fox bit her lip, as if determined about something, "Last night, I couldn’t resist temptation. If you feel wronged, I can repay you once."
Julian Fairchild raised an eyebrow, his breathing gradually becoming heated.
