Mr. Fairchild's Rose: She is Wild and Proud-Chapter 284 - 205: He’s Quite Similar to Damian Fairchild
You teased her, made her... and then just let go?
What kind of twisted game is this?
Julian Fairchild kissed her lips, didn’t say a word, yet the mirth in his eyes was impossible to conceal.
"Oh, you." Maeve Lane nudged him, the blush on her face hadn’t completely faded. She looked less angry and more shy.
"So you can feel... what it’s like to be hot-headed." Julian Fairchild gently licked her earlobe; his voice seductive like a Demon King.
Maeve Lane drew her hand back from hugging him, dryly said, "I’m not."
The man held her close, chuckled, "I know your body better than you do."
Maeve Lane: "..."
"Well, how does it feel, uncomfortable?"
How was she supposed to answer that.
Seeing her frown, Julian Fairchild softened, leaned over and captured her lips, his tongue delving deep; a kiss that started gentle soon grew forceful.
Maeve Lane felt the man’s passion, but she still retained some sense. As he breathed, she swiftly tugged the blanket, wrapping herself tightly.
Julian Fairchild’s arms were suddenly empty, his expression darkening.
"Nice kiss, I don’t feel uncomfortable at all now." Maeve Lane cleared her throat, sounding like a heartbreaker who had just ditched someone, "Sleep, sleep."
The man was about to turn her over.
But Maeve Lane casually added, "If you keep touching, you won’t be allowed to kiss me for a year."
Julian Fairchild’s hand on her waist froze rigidly.
Then he gritted his teeth, with helplessness in his voice, "You’re playing with fire."
"Hmm."
Julian Fairchild finally understood what playing with fire meant, restrainedly said, "Zoe, I hope you won’t regret it after a year."
Maeve Lane’s heart trembled at his words.
Judging by his tone, if after a year they announced their marriage certificate...
Forget it, stop there, let’s discuss the future when it comes.
But right now, she felt great, Julian Fairchild just couldn’t handle her.
A few seconds later, the sound of the man getting out of bed and soon the shower was heard.
Maeve Lane shuffled wrapped in the blanket, muttered, "Pfft, you can’t handle me."
Julian Fairchild returned to Maeve Lane’s room after nearly an hour.
His body was a little cold, and only after a while did he gently embrace the sleeping girl again.
Listening to her steady, rhythmic breathing and slightly parted red lips, Julian Fairchild’s eyes darkened a few shades, lightly bit her tender lips.
"You really beat me."
...
The next morning, Maeve Lane, who had developed a good routine these days, woke up early.
Looking at the ceiling above, she sighed, and then expertly pinched Julian Fairchild’s handsome face, "Wake up, Julian Fairchild."
The man woke up at the moment she opened her eyes, caught her hand and tucked it under the blanket, "Just sleep a little longer."
"It’s already almost seven. If you don’t get up, the photographer will arrive," Maeve Lane urged him daily like a nagging mother, "Hurry up."
"Miles Hughes has already gotten us leave."
Julian Fairchild did mention the leave last night, but—
"Weren’t you just tricking me?"
Julian Fairchild gradually opened his eyes, his thin lips uttering, "Not tricking you."
Maeve Lane knew Julian Fairchild wasn’t someone who joked around.
Although he wanted to be public, each time if she asked him to leave with determination, Julian Fairchild would respect her wishes.
So although the two often hugged and simply slept, they hadn’t been caught on camera.
Besides, there was Miles Hughes.
"Why suddenly take leave?" Maeve Lane lay back in his embrace, with her arm across his firm abs. Julian Fairchild carried a slight sandalwood scent, which smelled pleasant.
Whenever a show starts recording, it costs money daily. If there isn’t a special situation, leave wouldn’t be taken.
She watched as Julian Fairchild’s gaze slowly landed on her, said firmly, "It’s related to your mom’s illness."
Maeve Lane froze, "Mom’s illness? What happened?"
Julian Fairchild patted her back, "Don’t worry, it’s not bad news. Do you remember Yara Payne?"
"I remember." Maeve Lane’s mind instantly flashed with numerous thoughts.
"Her mentor is quite famous, specializing in mental health. I’ve had people look into his whereabouts before but found nothing; recently, I found him." Julian Fairchild’s voice seemed to carry a stabilizing force.
"Miles Hughes personally invited him here; he’s been at Fellsmere Sanatorium for a while.
Your mom’s condition has gradually improved under his treatment, and now it’s considered stable."
Maeve Lane couldn’t suppress the excitement inside her, "So today, you’re taking me to see her?"
