Su Yunqi got stumped for a moment as she kept standing there, holding Jia Hao's boxers.
Of course, she wasn't a greenhorn and knew why the boxer was hardened like cardboard.
' So…He really saw me last night.' Su Yunqi bit her lips as her face turned red from shame.
Even after she tried to sleep last night, she couldn't dream of Jia Hao, whose figure slowly overlapped with her late husband.
Seeing his girthy masculinity just once, Su Yunqi felt the lust which she forcefully supressed after the death of her husband ignited once again.
The body, the personality, the dominance, Jia Hao was way too similar to her husband…Even a bit better than him. The years of pent up frustration in Su Yunqi became a raging river suppressed by a fragile dam.
And now…That dam seems to be unable to keep the river in check.
' This…This Hao'er…The scent…It feels so…natural.'
