Chapter 65 Chapter 65 Is it really too late to break up now?

6.

Gin is a tsundere. If Chianti heard what I said, she would probably frown and say I was crazy and scold me for being too obsessed with gin.

I am the best at talking nonsense and can say cheesy love words easily, but most of the time I only say love with my mouth, but in fact I love myself the most, and my actions are mostly to seek sweetness for myself, but Gin is the opposite... I guess it's the opposite.

He always silently uses actions instead of words, like a dormant beast, hiding all his intentions under a cold appearance.

That's too much. I feel embarrassed to continue blaming him for being too much last night.

Well, it’s a man who’s really having sex for the first time.

I admit that I am easy to coax, but I don’t believe that anyone can be difficult to coax when facing Gin in this state.

It's human nature.

7.

I actually took a week off...

Of course, I didn't have to be bedridden for a whole week. In fact, I had already recovered most of my strength on the third day. At least I could jump around and watch my daughter's new album music video in the living room with Vodka.

Maybe it was because I was too lively and he felt that his dignity as a man was challenged. Gin, who had slept with me for two days, pushed me back onto the bed without any hesitation that night.

The soft fabric of her nightgown was easily pushed and folded around her waist, revealing her slender, flexible waist. His calloused fingertips kneaded and pressed the soft flesh in the hollow of her waist, almost affectionately, stirring waves of subtle tremors. The slightly raised spine became a new territory for his lips and tongue, nibbling and licking gently, leaving behind moist traces.

I tried in vain to crawl forward, but this feeble resistance seemed to have only the opposite effect, causing him to press harder and let out a low, warning chuckle from his throat.

"Where do you want to run to?" His muscles were tense, filled with a dangerous sense of oppression. "Okay."

Good hammer!

He did follow my wishes, but...

The bed sheet had been completely crumpled and there were two marks left on it from the knees crawling forward.

And in the middle of the two traces, there is an intermittent water mark.

"Still running?" He easily picked up my limp body and pressed me against the soft leather headboard. His big palm was hot, and with unquestionable control, he stroked my waist with an attitude of appreciating my property.

The other hand gradually moved down, touching my lower abdomen, pressing lightly to feel the slight bulge.

When I woke up the next day, I felt that even my breathing was sore and weak from excessive plucking. I felt that my grandfather's lover might be bitten by him. There was also a clear swelling and pain coming from some indescribable places, as if even the slightest pulse beat could be involved. I even suspected that he did it on purpose. He just wanted to... apply medicine.

How abominable, how abominable, how abominable.

I was so angry that my teeth were itching. Without thinking, I turned my head and bit his muscular shoulder, accusing him incoherently, "Do you know that you look like a pervert right now?"

From this you can see that I have become a lot bolder and I even dare to say this directly to Gin.

Don't worry, he's spoiled!

8.

Yes, that's how I got my one-week work injury leave. Just when I was able to get out of bed and started to show off, Gin showed me some pain and made me cry and beg for mercy... This cycle continued until Gin, who had been hanging out with me at home for a week, finally ended his vacation.

Wait, so Gin, the distillery's top worker, actually took a break? And a full week of it?

Is this true or false?

If it were true, he wasn't completely resting, just not out on assignment. In fact, while I was leaning against him, playing on my phone or watching TV, he was usually right beside me, processing what seemed like an endless supply of confidential documents. Occasionally, a phone call would come in, and whenever that happened, he'd grab a pillow and shove it behind my back, making me more comfortable, then get up and walk out of my earshot to answer the call.

Gin never avoided me when looking at confidential documents. After all, I was a pure-blooded member of the Black Organization, and he trusted me completely. He also believed that I had no reason, opportunity, or courage to betray the organization. Plus, I had always been resistant to the Black Organization's confidential content. Even if he put the document in front of me, my eyes would automatically not focus, and my brain would refuse to accept any useful information.

As for the phone...

To be honest, it's a bit strange because Gin never avoided me on purpose when answering the phone before, even if it was a call from his boss.

It can't be that after I slept with him, his soul and I were connected and he had the ability to read minds. Could it be that Gin understood my desire for the Black Organization to collapse soon?

Really? I don't believe it.

But I really want to know why. I sat cross-legged on the sofa, holding the pillow he had given me, and stared blankly at Gin as he hung up the phone and walked back to the living room with his long legs.

I opened my mouth and thought for a long time, still struggling whether to satisfy my curiosity, but he walked straight to me, and without saying a word, he bent down and picked me up from the sofa.

I was caught off guard and subconsciously hugged his neck: "Huh?"

He spoke succinctly, carrying me towards my front bedroom, now my dressing room: "Let's go."

I was confused: "Where to?"

Gin only gave five words: "You'll know when you get there."

I'm a pig, really. I actually had unrealistic romantic expectations for Gin. I thought that this stinky man who either pressed me on the bed or on the sofa finally got it and realized that in addition to physical communication, he also had to have spiritual communication with me, and he knew to take me out on a date.

Haha, which couple is going to the training ground for a date?

Is it really too late to break up now?

9.

The last time I came here was to assess Scotland, and now it's my turn to suffer.

Is this really worthy of the little skirt I wore so specially? It was a waste of money after all!!!

Gin took a Beretta M92F from the weapon rack, which was said to have been modified to have less recoil. Well, it was the same model he usually used, and put it in my hand.

"Hold on," he ordered, his voice booming above me.

He stood behind me, his broad chest pressed against my back perfectly, his body temperature coming through the thin fabric, almost ironing the skin on my back.

His arms slid around my sides, his large hands completely enveloping the hand holding the gun, meticulously adjusting the position of each of my fingers. His warm breath brushed against my ears and neck, bringing waves of indescribable tingling.

Is this how you adjust your grip? Why didn't I remember him teaching me this way before?

Oh, yes, speaking of him teaching me before. Gin was my shooting instructor, not just after I was assigned to the Polestar Bar. In the distant past, when I was still a little girl, Gin was responsible for teaching a group of us orphans how to shoot.

At that time, I was always the last one in the class, always young, and always missing the target. I could only hide in the corner, praying that Gin would not notice me, while secretly putting down the gun, preferably as far away from me as possible, and repeatedly savoring Gin's beauty.

Gin must have realized that I was a loser at that time. He was always serious about his work and thought about forcing me to train, but later gave up for some reason. The instructor in charge of teaching shooting was replaced by a kind man who was very easy to talk to and pretended I didn't exist no matter how much I slacked off.

It’s a pity that good people don’t live long in the Black Organization...that’s a story for another time.

So, after I was assigned to Gin's team, the first lesson Gin taught me was to take me to the training ground to check my shooting accuracy.

Then, I made a big one for Gin.

It had been so long since I'd physically touched a gun, and after waking up, I was filled with curiosity about the gun in my hand. Gin saw my curiosity, so before letting me actually start the simulation, he taught me the correct way to hold the gun.

Humph, at that time he was so disgusted with me that he stood several meters away from me and told me to adjust my posture in a cold tone as if I was teaching a fool.

But it is also different from the personal guidance we have now!

I was just too curious. They say curiosity kills the cat, and curiosity almost killed Yingzi. Without even thinking, I turned the gun around and pointed it at myself, tilting my head to try and see what was inside the dark barrel...

The next second, a huge force grabbed my wrist and snatched the gun away. Gin's face was terribly gloomy. I almost thought I was going to die on the training ground.

But now, times have changed. From behind, I can clearly feel the steady rise and fall of his chest and the defined hardness of his muscles. He practically holds me in his embrace. My thoughts involuntarily begin to wander, and I wonder if he's doing this on purpose again... using this teaching method...

"Focus." He seemed to notice that I was distracted, and his voice sounded close to my ear with an unquestionable command. At the same time, his chin rubbed the top of my head almost imperceptibly.

"Brother, is your teaching serious?" I couldn't help it in the end. The corners of my mouth were harder to suppress than AK, and they wanted to rise up desperately.

Gin turned a deaf ear to my teasing. He held my hand, guided me to raise my arm, and pointed steadily at the bull's eye: "Put your finger in the right place. Don't let me catch you making that stupid mistake again."

"What kind of stupid mistake?" I deliberately retorted.

"The gun was pointed at me." He paused, his tone as cold as it was two years ago, but with a hint of something more. "Also, I thought I could protect myself without even setting the safety catch."

"Don't talk about me!" I protested with bravado. "Look, I'll show you how I'm a sharpshooter!"

I tried to concentrate, aiming at the distant target, but my heart was beating uncontrollably faster and faster. His breath, his body temperature, his every subtle movement seemed to tickle my tense nerves.

My cheeks burning, I tried to follow his instructions, but his presence was too strong to fully focus on the target.

This is too much! How can I be a sharpshooter like this? I was just about to look up and accuse him -

He lowered his head and without warning, his lips pressed against my sensitive earlobe, even biting it very lightly.

!!!

My whole body trembled violently and I almost lost my grip on the gun.

"It seems..." A hint of a clearly audible malicious smile was mixed into his low voice, as if he was very satisfied with my reaction. "This teaching method can help you remember it better?"

9.

"It seems that I came at the wrong time?" A lazy and magnetic female voice suddenly sounded with a smile, breaking the ambiguous and sticky atmosphere in this space.

I don't know when Vermouth appeared. Her thoughtful and playful gaze first fell on Gin's hand that was still around my waist, then slowly moved up, swept across the side of my neck, and finally stopped on my lips and moist eyes that had obviously just been severely "taught a lesson".

She smiled softly, as if she had discovered some extremely interesting secret.

"What's wrong?" Gin put me behind him, "You haven't left yet."

"There are still some trivial tails that need to be cleaned up." Vermouth's eyes met my head that popped out from the side of Gin, and she winked meaningfully, then turned around and waved her hand, "We'll talk later, you guys get busy first."

Watching Vermouth's graceful departure, I rolled my eyes, grabbed Gin's waist, and said in an unpleasant tone, "Stop looking."

Gin lowered his eyes, his long eyebrows raised slightly, almost imperceptibly: "You are not looking?"

I pretended I didn't hear his question, snorted, and started to make a fuss. "No girls are allowed to chat with you now! Because think about it, Vermouth has a high IQ, um, her EQ is also high, oh, and she has good taste. You are usually more simple... Forget it, I take this back. What if you chat with her for a few minutes, and she is a very mysterious person, and then you fall in love with her in two or three days! What should I do then? What should I do then?"

Gin laughed: "Are you saying this to me? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"I don't care. I'm just jealous." I crossed my arms and said, "Is jealousy allowed in our relationship? If not, how about soy sauce? Mustard? Mayonnaise? Ketchup? Salad dressing? Sugar? Soybean flour? Sesame powder? Matcha powder? Cocoa powder? Barbecue sauce? Jam? Egg tart mixture? Egg liquid? Breadcrumbs?"

Thinking of this, I nodded naturally and seriously: "I'm hungry. When are we going to eat?"

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The author has something to say: Currently in debt:

Throwing mines: 1

No more updates this time. After the washing machine pipe leaked, the kitchen pipe also leaked. The person involved just wants to be quiet [chin]

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