“Giddy up… Whoa…”
“One more time!”
“Not enough, lift up your back!”
Lydia Foster held her forehead with both hands, shaking her head hard in disbelief. She really did that. Her eyes darted to the “stallion” lying next to her—yep, not a dream. That huge mystery she rode all night? Real.
No wonder her legs felt like they weren’t hers anymore. The soreness was off the charts.
She looked around—clothes scattered, shoes tossed aside, towels, tissues, used condoms, even a chair knocked over. It screamed chaos... and intensity.
Yeah, she did something bold last night—real bold. Afterward, she’d ended up at the bar where Sophie Brown sings. Got herself completely hammered. Before Sophie got called up for another set, she leaned in close and whispered, “Babe, got a little surprise for you.” Her eyes were gleaming with mischief.
Everything after that? Kinda blurry.
She vaguely remembered downing some wine arm-in-arm with a tall, handsome stranger. Then hotel. Then fire. Not metaphorical fire—like, sparks-flying-all-over-the-place kind of fire.
Sofa. Bathtub. Bedside table.
Just thinking about it had her cheeks burning red.
It was crazy.
Totally... wild.
She looked again at the guy next to her. A single sheet was loosely draped over his waist, showing off a chiseled torso above it. And what lay under… probably those perfect eight-pack abs.
She’d definitely run her fingers—and eyes—down those one by one last night. Her eyes started drifting again downward…
Lydia quickly covered her face with a hand, peeking through her fingers, and gently tugged the sheet a little higher.
“Don’t ogle. Be decent,” she whispered to herself.
Her gaze slid back up to his face.
Have to hand it to Sophie—she had great taste. That man had the kind of face that could top the charts at a beauty contest. Sharp features, clean lines... basically sculpted by the gods.
Even asleep he looked like something out of a high-end commercial. Except for the slightly furrowed brows—like he was in deep thought. Or maybe… worn out?
Uh-oh. Did she go too hard on him last night?
A tiny pang of guilt crept in.
But then again—it was her first time. Not like he didn’t get anything out of it.
And anyway, it’s not like they’d see each other again. Just a one-night thing.
Lydia wasn’t the type to dwell. She was glad she woke up early—only 4:30 AM. The guy was still out cold.
Best not to wait until he woke up—way too awkward.
She had plans. A life. A reputation in Rongcheng. Imagine the cringe if they randomly bumped into each other later.
Enduring the soreness, she sat up. The sheet slid down, revealing love bites and faint traces all over her skin.
She scanned the room and finally spotted her tight green dress—ripped in two, poor thing, tossed next to the door like battlefield wreckage.
Luckily, she’d taken off the rest of her clothes herself. Her underwear was still in one piece.
Once dressed, she stuffed the torn dress and fake wig into her bag and calmly headed for the door… then hesitated.
She turned back, walked over to the table, pulled a tissue from the box, and wrote on it with her green lipstick:
“You were amazing!”
Sliding open her wallet, she pulled out the last thousand bucks she had in cash, placed it neatly by the tissue.
She took one last look at the sleeping beauty—then, wobbling slightly in her green sky-high heels, she limped out of the room.
Between the hangover and overexerted muscles, her body was protesting with every movement. She leaned against the elevator wall, yawning so hard her eyes watered.
“Ding”—the elevator doors opened.
She stumbled into the lobby… only to spot a very familiar figure.