Shen Jing held the cigarette to her nose and sniffed. Its aroma was much stronger than the clean, sharp scent that usually clung to him.
She also grabbed the lighter; she bowed her head to light it. CLICK.
Remembering how, she took a drag and slowly blew the smoke toward Zhou Luchen's profile. The Nicotine mixed with a milky scent, seductive and practiced.
Zhou Luchen's lips curled slightly, and he spat out a curse, "Fuck you."
He was always without limits, and his usual unrestrained behavior now carried an added layer of subtle, erotic suggestion.
Even in the dim atmosphere, the unfastened buttons of the beauty's qipao collar, the fabric pulled taut where it concealed her figure, revealed glimpses of skin as white and luminous as a string of pearls.
This darkened Zhou Luchen's gaze.
Shen Jing felt Zhou Luchen was being too restrained at this moment.
