I really want to kill you.
Jiang Songhe's kiss was so fierce and skillless.
Similar to how someone might feel their fingertips aren't close enough or wet enough to clean properly, so they use their lips to wipe it directly.
He was wiped in this monotonous manner for more than ten seconds before being pushed away against his forehead and chest. He could still hear the drunken ramblings that were stirring up trouble, mixed with the smell of alcohol, drifting out from the thin lips that were being cleaned, as if he hadn't learned his lesson.
"You ruined...my plans." The owner of the thin lips showed no remorse. "You saw it...I have plenty of...people with silver tongues who like me. You get out of here, I want to go back to being the TOP..."
The phrase "sharp-tongued" is a double entendre, not only criticizing the cleaner for being incompetent but also subtly mocking his poor performance.
“Yair is much more interesting than you. I’m going to Hordorf, and I’m taking him with me… um!”
Damn it, how could Hordorf not need a double-door refrigerator? Jiang Songhe lowered her head again and covered him with her teeth, punishing the owner of the thin lips for his brainless idea of sending warmth to a five-star hotel: "Yair, huh? Say it again."
Jonah cried out in pain, his narrow eyes widening in surprise. He resorted to his old trick, shoving his forehead and chest. Jiang Songhe, however, was prepared. She gripped the back of his neck, her large hand pressed against his chest, restricting his movement, and bit him even harder.
"Ouch!" Taking advantage of the moment when only her lower lip was being bitten, Jonathan turned her head to face Jiang Songhe, trying to use her high nose bridge as a weapon to resist and fight back. "More clever than you... Ouch!"
Not to be outdone, Jiang Songhe used the tip of his nose to draw an arc from bottom to top to deflect the weapon. His large hand slid forward, his thumb hooking the angle of his jawline, while the other four fingers spread out, gripping his red and hot earlobe and pulling tightly against his soft cheekbone.
Then, she rotated her wrist to adjust her fair and rosy face to a comfortable angle. In her mind, she quickly flipped through the training notes she had kept during the last week of training with Maner, reviewing each point and putting them into practice in reverse order.
He parted his slightly open teeth in surprise and threatened through the man's mouth, "Still talking nonsense?"
“More interesting than you… haha…” The “interesting” part and the rest of the sentence were captured and shattered by the tongue.
A large hand slid down the spine from the back of the chest, moving from the lower back to the side, coiling tightly like a python constricting a rabbit. The curves of their upper bodies were nestled together perfectly, not only dominating each other's breath but also stealing their heartbeats.
Jonathan couldn't utter another syllable, his breath was blocked, and soon he collapsed like melted butter, exhausted and limp.
Jiang Songhe briefly withdrew his offensive, offering a breath of fresh air, but his arms had no intention of letting up. He wrapped his arms around the person's shoulders and waist and lifted them up. He removed his hand from the jawbone, slapped it against the car window, and with the chin tucked in, he tilted the silver-haired head back and rested it on his forearm.
He looked down at her, his gaze lingering between her dazed eyes and her hurried breaths. Then he knelt down on one knee, his heel sweeping across her, hooking her seemingly boneless legs and bringing them closer to him.
"Are you going to be the TOP anymore, hmm?" Jiang Songhe felt he had taught him enough, so he loosened the iron-armed python cage and took a breath to interrogate him.
Who knew that after Jonathan had breathed enough, he would revert to his bad ways, tilt his head and bite the forearm he was using as a pillow! Jiang Songhe hissed angrily and reflexively pulled his arm back. Jonathan took the opportunity to raise his two hands, which were still tied with a tie, and made a move to open the rear window.
The upper edge of the privacy glass made a few clattering sounds. Jonathan, with his head against the car wall, turned his face to the window and shouted in English, "Help me!" without waiting for a moment to catch his breath.
Jiang Songhe immediately flew into a rage, grabbed Jonathan's wrist, and slammed it against the ceiling with a thud.
Reason was burned away by the sting and anger. Jiang Songhe grabbed Jonathan's neck and slammed him hard against the ground. He gasped for breath, pursed his lips and chewed on the mixture of blood and rust in his mouth with the sweet and bitter taste of champagne, as well as the self-loathing triggered by his out-of-control behavior.
After a long while, he slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air, his dark eyes fixed on the person beneath him, his fingertips tracing the side of his neck with a faint, almost imperceptible touch, as he let out a low, chilling sound, tinged with despair.
“I really want to kill you, Jonathan.”
In the cramped back seat, the atmosphere was like the calm before a storm—oppressive, deathly silent, and fraught with danger. It seemed that a single, fleeting signal could unleash a devastating, all-consuming torrent.
Jonah was probably frightened by the extreme words; he trembled violently, and his eyes suddenly welled up with tears. Even the simple act of swallowing became extremely difficult. The delicate bumps beneath his thin skin rolled and made a low gurgling sound.
This reminded Jiang Songhe of Jonathan's stress reaction in Manner and Weiting two months ago. She then wondered if a shocking new scar remained on his left arm, which was now wrapped in a sleeve.
He twitched his brow, slumped his shoulders, and spread his arms. Jonathan, now free of his limbs, immediately turned his back to the car door and curled up into a small ball, like a frightened pangolin, hugging his knees.
Jiang Songhe sighed very softly, stepped back to create some distance, grabbed his suit jacket from the front seat, and draped it over the trembling white figure: "The car doors are locked, stay put. I'll get to the hotel and then..."
"I'll let you go."
Jiang Songhe got out of the back seat, walked around half the car, and sat in the driver's seat. After settling in, he hesitated to start the car, instead slumping over the steering wheel with his back bent and elbows hunched.
After a while, two figures suddenly emerged from the back door of Destination. They exchanged a few words of laughter and curses, and soon began to push and shove each other, leaning against the front of the car and passionately kissing.
Jiang Songhe muttered a curse, about to honk the horn, when his hand suddenly stopped. He then turned and reached for the center console, pressing a function button with his thumb. The windshield washer fluid immediately swung left and right, spreading it evenly.
"Holy shit!" An arm slipped on the windshield with a whoosh, and the person sprang up as if electrocuted. "Are you crazy?!"
Jiang Songhe waited expressionlessly for the cleaning process to finish, ignoring the gesturing figures outside the car, started the engine, and drove Luman out of the narrow street, leaving the grumbling and cursing people far behind.
Only after all was quiet did Jiang Songhe manage to recall if Jonah had muttered something just now—
"I can't get in."
-
What do you mean by "can't get in"?
With his cerebellum numbed by alcohol, Jiang Songhe's thoughts were somewhat jumbled. This unclear statement happened to be a question. He had a strange premonition that the answer to this question was very important, and it seemed that it could affect whether or not they should continue on their current route.
I vaguely felt that I had forgotten something even more important, so I eased off the accelerator, slowing the already slow car down even further.
After driving at a snail's pace for a short distance along the street, two answers simultaneously sounded an alarm in Jiang Songhe's sluggish mind.
Jonathan probably didn't bring his room key.
And at that moment, he was driving under the influence of alcohol!
Jiang Songhe broke out in a cold sweat, nearly slamming on the brakes and stopping abruptly on the side of the road, 300 meters from Destination. Fortunately, he was experienced enough to avoid impulsively parking in a no-parking zone and making the situation worse.
Looking around, I decisively locked my gaze on the shopping mall about 200 meters ahead, behind the intersection.
He took a deep breath to calm himself down, checked the traffic flow in front and behind him through the rearview mirror, and then drove the car into the underground parking garage of the target shopping mall at the same speed, quite steadily.
...
Luman successfully drove into the parking space, and Jiang Songhe turned off the car completely before nervously smoothing her hair.
How could I forget to call a designated driver? How could I make such a basic and dangerous mistake? It's one thing to be stupid and court death, but how could I forget there was another, more valuable and important person in the car? And I practically forced this person into the car and drove off with me…
Jiang Songhe closed his eyes in annoyance and subconsciously reached into the storage compartment to take out a cigarette case. His fingertips trembled violently, and he pulled out one cigarette but dropped it. Finally, he simply tore off the entire lid with his teeth, poured all the cigarettes into his hand, pinched one of them, and put it in his mouth.
What are you so arrogant about sending them? Don't even think about calling a designated driver.
His best course of action now is to cut his losses and immediately contact Wu Fangsi, asking her to send someone more reliable, whether it's Vasin or someone else, to take Jonathan back to where he belongs.
"Uh-huh." Jiang Songhe took out her phone, opened WeChat, found her chat with Wu Fangsi, and cleared her throat in a seemingly unrelated manner. "Hey, Jonathan is in my car right now. Can you send someone..."
He only realized halfway through his sentence that he still had a cigarette in his mouth, making his speech unclear and his words impolite.
He held the cigarette between his fingers, swiped up with his thumb to cancel sending, and pressed the talk button again: "Wu Fangsi, sorry, Janus is in my car now, thank you for your help—"
Perhaps due to the emotional rollercoaster and the effects of the alcohol, Jiang Songhe felt herself slipping backward.
He got distracted and his train of thought was interrupted again. He had to cancel the recording again, reorganize his thoughts, and start speaking again.
"Witch..." Why is the car roof covering the field of vision? Is that correct?
New problems.
At this moment, Jiang Songhe seemed to have regressed into a single-minded creature, only able to think about one thing at a time. He was stuck in his throat, unable to utter a coherent sentence for a long time. Until a pair of inverted, narrow eyes filled with resentment appeared in his field of vision.
He was speechless for a moment, unable to utter the word "witchcraft."
Suddenly, something soft yet hard gripped my neck, followed by a dizzying spin. The cigarette I hadn't had time to light and my phone, which I hadn't sent a WeChat message to, were instantly flung out of my hands and gone somewhere unknown.
Jiang Songhe didn't know where his occipital bone had hit, but he felt a buzzing noise in his head, which accompanied the chaotic snowflakes in front of him.
Jiang Songhe felt a heavy weight on his waist and abdomen, coughed violently, propped up his neck, and raised his hand to try to restore his vision by rubbing the Jingming acupoint, but his hand was grabbed and pressed against the flat surface beside his ear.
The place where he lay down shouldn't be so spacious. He squinted and looked to the other side, while his other hand tentatively reached out and groped sideways.
The same method was used on the other hand, and it was quickly subdued.
Then came the scorching smell of alcohol, followed by a light but firm nibble on the tip of my nose, then my lips, chin, and side of my neck, finally stopping at my Adam's apple. The biting force gradually increased, a pure torture, like revenge.
Based on the clear direction of the path, Jiang Songhe quickly realized who the attacker was.
Thanks to the dull pain ignited along the path, he looked up and gasped for breath. His pupils suddenly focused, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the back seat had been folded down, and his tie and suit were discarded not far away in a twisted and contorted shape.
"You, how could you?!" Jiang Songhe shrugged and moved, raising his wrist a few centimeters before it was pressed down again.
Unlike the burning heat of alcohol between his teeth, his two thin palms were like two cold-blooded snakes. The cool touch followed the veins on Jiang Songhe's forearm and the lines on his palms, embedding itself between his ten fingers.
As if a switch inside her body had been triggered, Jiang Songhe was tormented by a bittersweet feeling that was both thrilling and sad, leaving her feeling dazed and confused.
The engine shouldn't have been turned off; at least the heater should have been left on. He thought absentmindedly.
The person on top of him raised their head, pulling the hands that were pressing against his ears over his head, and with an unwavering gaze, questioned him in a low, menacing tone.
"Weren't you going to kill me?"
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