He pulled a blade out of nowhere and cut the ropes around her wrists, lifted her up, and carried her across the warehouse as gunshots and screams took place.
Lu Zhaoyang lay in his embrace, his body scent overwhelming her. His elegant jawline, enticing neck, white collar, barely exposed skin underneath his shirt — everything about him screamed for her attention.
She bit down even harder to keep herself sane, and held on tightly to his shirt until he put her down on the car's backseat.
Lu Zhaoyang curled herself on the backseat while Huo Yunting started the car and sped away from the warehouse.
Huo Yunting's hands were firmly on the steering wheel. He stepped on the accelerator, dividing his attention between the road traffic and her condition.
Lu Zhaoyang's face was flushed. She had already tore open her collar, but she still bit down hard on her teeth.
Idiotic woman! That's a lot of blood, does she want to mutilate her tongue?
