The man's Adam's apple moved up and down. "Who did you dream about?"
"I don't remember, it wasn't even a dream, so I can't have a profound impression," she said indifferently, her slender fingers running through her tea-colored curly hair, "Moreover, all of my dark history is related to you."
Mo Shiche, "..."
Mo Shiche's handsome face suddenly darkened. He still maintained a bent-over posture, still able to see the rejection and evasion in her eyes—
She was obviously still nervous, and her initiative in mentioning she peeked at him bathing was merely to diverge the conversation.
As astute as he was, these little thoughts could not escape his eyes.
The oppressive feeling on her remained constant. Furthermore, the man still held her waist tightly. Luo Qiangwei raised her hand and pushed him, "What are you doing? I'm not comfortable this way."
"Answer me, and I'll make you comfortable."
