Wen Qiao was just about to ask him how he planned to find it when her chin was lifted, and a scorching kiss from the man pressed down.
Wen Qiao's eyes widened, her grip on the can tightened instantly, and she freed a hand to push Fu Jinghen's shoulder, trying to push him away.
The kitchen was open, and where they stood, the sofa in the living room was clearly visible. Jiang Lai and Fu Qiang were sitting on the sofa with their backs to them, chatting, and could see everything they were doing if they just turned around.
If they really saw, how could she face anyone?
Losing face at the start of the year—wouldn't that mean losing it for the whole year?
Fu Jinghen caught hold of Wen Qiao's hand, interlocking his fingers with hers, pressing her hand down beside him, focused solely on kissing his girl.
His other hand roamed dangerously under the hem of her shirt, poised to venture further.
