"But...the plane will be delayed, and I have work tomorrow."
He Muchen said coquettishly, "Someone else can do tomorrow's work. Can you keep me company? Or shall we not go back tonight?"
Zhou Rui stared unblinkingly at He Muchen. He couldn't resist He Muchen's expression as he spoke to him, and stammered:
"That's not a good idea, Sister Hong will probably be very angry."
He Muchen wrapped his arms around Zhou Rui's waist, rubbing against his stomach and inhaling Zhou Rui's pleasant scent.
Because the clothes were thin in the summer, Zhou Rui could feel the heat from He Muchen's face even through his T-shirt. His face instantly flushed, and he muttered, "Itchy..."
He Muchen looked up at Zhou Rui, whose face was flushed, and playfully pinched Zhou Rui's waist, asking with a smile, "Does it itch here?"
Zhou Rui, blushing, dared not look He Muchen in the eye and whispered, "It tickles..."
"Honey, why is my whole body itchy? Do you have ticklish spots on every part of your skin?" He Muchen touched Zhou Rui's body haphazardly.
Zhou Rui couldn't take it anymore, her mind racing: How could my husband touch me like that?
But his heart was screaming: Come on, honey, I'll let you touch me slowly, touch me however you want, I'll just lie here quietly.
He Muchen looked at Zhou Rui, who remained motionless and bowed his head without resistance, then stood up, gently flicked his forehead, and laughed:
"Honey, you're being a little too obedient. Are you going to be fantasizing about me again with your wild imagination?"
Zhou Rui blushed and defended himself, saying, "I didn't, I... I really need to go back and pack my bags."
After finishing his sentence, Zhou Rui hurriedly fled the scene, panting as he ran to his room. The moment he closed the door, he leaned against it and slid down to sit on the floor.
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