Chen Dashan glanced at Ye Jiping's delicate hand rested on his shoulder, fingers slender, nails even more finely patterned.
At the moment, she was gently kneading his shoulder, the sensation utterly intoxicating.
"Dashan..."
Ye Jiping's voice turned coquettish as she moved her face close to Chen Dashan's and breathed out warmly, "Last time, didn't you want to see my lace panties?"
Chen Dashan was startled, the wolfberry tea he was drinking almost sprayed out.
Was this still the imposing, aloof Ye Jiping he remembered?
Even Wu Hongling on the sofa widened her eyes and blushed as she looked at Chen Dashan and Ye Jiping. Were Chen Dashan's women all so straightforward, so... unrestrained?
