Alcohol numbs the nerves, amplifies the senses, making people do things they wouldn't easily do when sober.
Song Guanchao always thought he had great self-control, but the softness coming from his arm at this moment made him want to pull it away, yet his body wouldn't obey.
He even leaned closer to her on his own accord.
Jiang Yiren felt his movement, and a blush and hint of joy spread from the corner of her eyes.
She knew her judgment was correct, he indeed didn't resist being intimate with her.
"The car's here, let's get in." Jiang Yiren seized the opportunity, opened the car door, and got in.
Song Guanchao stubbed out his cigarette, then got into the passenger seat under Jiang Yiren's resentful gaze and told the driver her home's address.
Jiang Yiren pouted, hugged her arms, and turned her head away.
She was angry.
She had been so proactive, yet he remained so indifferent.
Clearly interested in her body, yet insisted on pretending to be proper.
