The Retired CEO's Guide To Being Spoiled-Chapter 62: The Hidden Ambitions
Hearing this, Julian Sterling’s face flushed red. He shot a glance at the man, laughing as he scolded: "You pervert, keep your eyes to yourself if you want to look so bad."
"Oh my." Ethan Caldwell sighed softly: "At worst, I’ll just carry you off to ’reminisce’ about old times. No need to look at it then."
In return, he received a sharp glare from Julian.
Ethan burst into laughter before scooping him up and carrying him back to the bedroom, gently placing him onto the bed. He patted Julian’s buttocks—strictly the fleshy cheeks, delicately avoiding the tender center: "Take your pants off, babe."
Julian froze.
What had gotten into this man today? Speaking so roguishly and bluntly.
Take off his pants? What the hell? After tormenting him so ruthlessly all night yesterday, he still wanted to go again today? Without even setting the mood, just demanding he strip? What a lecherous, bastard of a man!
Seeming to read his thoughts, Ethan laid on top of Julian, kissing the mouth that was about to open and curse: "What dirty thoughts are you having? Take them off so I can apply medicine for you. I was a bit rough yesterday, and it’s still swollen this morning. It needs proper care."
"You actually know you did too much yesterday?" Julian pouted, still scolding him; naturally, he wouldn’t admit he was embarrassed into anger because of his misunderstanding. "How many times did I beg you yesterday? Did you show any mercy? You knew we had to discuss a contract today, yet you still did that. If I didn’t moan, you deliberately thrust harder. Damn it, Ethan Caldwell, you’re a beast!"
Hearing Julian speak at length, Ethan suddenly realized Julian’s voice was excessively hoarse. It made sens. Crying out all night, only resting his voice briefly in the morning before talking so much in the afternoon—it would be strange if he weren’t hoarse. Luckily, it was still mild, not raspy like a drake.
Ethan put on an "I know I was wrong" expression, pressing close to him while rubbing Julian’s back: "I was wrong. Be good, don’t be angry. Let me get the medicine for you, okay?"
After speaking, Ethan kissed his cheek, got off the bed, and walked toward the cabinet in the corner. As he approached, he suddenly changed direction, seemingly having a new thought, and walked out of the room.
Julian rolled over to lie on his stomach, letting his curved buttocks stick up. Obviously, he hadn’t taken his pants off. Who would strip and lie on a bed waiting for someone? Ethan might not apply medicine but end up using that thing to smear semen on him instead. Julian was exhausted; he didn’t want to be bedridden!
Just then, his phone vibrated. Julian reached out, grabbed it, and glanced at the screen. It was a message from Seraphina Cole.
[Forgot to mention this afternoon, our baby has grown up.]
Julian smiled at the message. Perhaps if the original "Julian" were still here, he would feel happy too. At the very least, he could feel Seraphina’s sincerity and pampering. She was likely one of the few who genuinely cared about "Julian."
Just as Julian was about to reply, a new message popped up.
[Restrain yourselves a bit in the future. If you don’t like this, you can tell me. We can reschedule the talk, don’t force yourself.]
Whoosh—Julian’s face burned red instantly.
He tossed the phone aside, refusing to look at it, his face flushed while silently cursing Ethan Caldwell a thousand times. But after lying there for a moment, the phone vibrated again, so Julian reached out to retrieve it.
It was Seraphina again.
[Remember to draw a picture for me. The mid-year admissions for Saint Lawrence University of Arts are coming up soon.]
[Yes, I’ll send it to you tomorrow.]
Julian watched the screen dim after hitting send, his lips pressing into a thin, contemplative line. The reality of the situation settled over him like a heavy cloak: the transfer deadline was looming, closer than he’d realized. Seraphina had struck a nerve, and she wasn’t wrong. His desire to transfer to the Sketching Department at Saint Lawrence University of Arts—the undisputed pinnacle of artistic education in the nation—was not a whim. It was a necessity.
If he was going to make a move, he refused to settle for mediocrity. Since he had chosen to walk this path, he would walk only on the highest, most dazzling stage.
A cold sneer tugged at the corner of his mouth as thoughts of the Sterling family invaded his mind. To them, artists were nothing more than parasites, useless trash that stained the pristine fabric of the upper class. They had ruthlessly forbidden the original "Julian" from pursuing his passion, terrified that his artistic inclinations would become a smudge of embarrassment on the family crest. The more they tried to suppress it, the more their disdain fueled the fire in Julian’s gut. He didn’t just want to succeed; he wanted to dominate. He wanted to step into the most glorious spotlight available and let his brilliance serve as a vicious, resounding slap to their arrogant faces. He would force them to watch the very thing they despised become his crowning glory.
But just one painting? What should he draw? Every person’s artistic style is distinct. His style and the original "Julian’s" were completely different in brushwork and strokes. The crucial issue was that he didn’t fully grasp this world’s aesthetics or art appreciation standards. He would likely have to use all his strength to paint a piece for Seraphina; at the very least, she could assess the similarity between his artistic style and this world’s aesthetics.
However, completing a beautiful piece within a day was a bit overwhelming, especially given his current physical condition.
Thinking of this, Julian couldn’t help but grit his teeth and curse Ethan Caldwell again. That old virgin who finally got a taste of meat—he had no concept of restraint!
For the foreseeable future, he definitely wouldn’t let Ethan Caldwell climb into his bed!
Detestable!
The culprit he was cursing finally returned, his footsteps clicking against the floor. Julian didn’t bother turning to look at Ethan; he just lay prone on the bed, scrolling through his news feed to find inspiration for tomorrow’s painting.
Ethan walked over, unsurprised to see that Julian hadn’t taken off his pants. However, as his gaze swept over Julian’s taut, perky buttocks, his eyes darkened slightly.
