She Flash-Married To His Rival by Harber Venus

In a sudden gaze, Moira was utterly bewildered.

'He was asleep, wasn't he? How did he suddenly open his eyes?' Her mind went blank for a moment, but her ears and face reacted swiftly, flushing crimson.

Moira felt like her whole face was on fire. She looked at Barclay for what seemed like ages before stammering, "Weren't you asleep?" "No," he replied.

'He wasn't asleep? Does that mean Barclay knows everything I did just now?' This realization made Moira want to flee, but she couldn't.

Barclay's hand was still clasped around her wrist, and as she attempted to pull away, he only tightened his grip.

The next moment, Moira heard Barclay's deep voice questioning. "What were you doing just now, Ms. Jimenez?"

Facing Barclay's interrogation, Moira's mind went blank, and she looked at him in embarrassment. "I think I might be drunk, Mr. Covington."

'Yes! I'll say I'm drunk! Drunk people aren't in their right minds! I didn't mean to!' she thought desperately.

Barclay looked at her, his eyebrows raised slightly, seeming somewhat incredulous. "Really?"

To prove her point about being drunk, Moira grabbed Barclay's hand and pressed it against her cheek. "Feel it. It's hot."

Barclay looked down at his hand pressed against her cheek, his eyes flickering. He lightly traced her cheek with his thumb. "Hmm, it does feel warm."

Moira breathed a sigh of relief. "When I'm drunk, I tend to get touchy-feely. It's not personal, Mr. Covington!"

"Is it?" he replied and raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you get touchy-feely?"

As he spoke, mimicking her earlier actions, he took her hand and placed it near his lips. "I'd like to see."

'Did Barclay have some sort of weird fetish? Why did he enjoy having people touch him randomly?' Moira's hand was held, and the heat on her face intensified compared to before. Barclay continued to gaze at her as if he wouldn't believe her words until she actually touched him.

Moira deeply regretted her impulsiveness just now. Now she felt like a lamb being roasted on a spit, with the fire already singeing her wool. If she didn't act quickly, she'd end up fully cooked.

'Well, then, I'll just touch him. After all, I already touched him earlier!' she thought.

She tried to psych herself up, but her index finger trembled as she approached his lips under his scrutinizing gaze.

After just a light touch, she recoiled as if shocked and pulled her hand back. "That's how I touch."

"I suppose that doesn't quite qualify as getting touchy-feely, does it?" Barclay looked at her, his eyes deep with suspicion.

Moira felt like crying. She regretted her earlier lustful thoughts and regretted even more her cowardice and lies afterward.

One lie led to a thousand more, and eventually, the truth would always come out.

And right now, her mind was blank. She couldn't think of a second lie to counter Barclay.

'Maybe I should just run?' she thought.

Just as she hesitated about making a run for it, Barclay suddenly spoke up, "You don't know, do you?"

He smirked suddenly, paused for a moment, then continued, "Well, let me show you."

Before Moira could even grasp the

meaning of his words, she felt a sudden tightness against her back. She was pressed into Barclay's embrace by Moira, caught off guard and falling right into him.

The familiar scent of wood net

enveloped her as she pressed against Barclay's shoulders. Just as she lifted her head, her cheek was gently stroked by Barclay's thumb. en.swhovels.netNôvelDrama.Org © content.

Ticklish and warm, it felt like something had brushed against her heart.

Moira stared blankly as he caressed her face, feeling like a puppet with no thoughts of her own.

His large hand glided over her face, then his index finger lightly traced her nape, a gentle touch that seemed more like teasing than simply touching.

Moira felt a tingling sensation, her whole body stiffening. "Mr. Covington!" she exclaimed.