familiar woody scent of a man hit Lizetta before she could even get a good look at
but she knew instantly who it was.
She furrowed her brows, yet Remington reached out, his big hand pressing against her forehead.
Feeling under the weather? You look like death warmed up, yet here you are out dining with folks.”
Lizetta had taken a cold bathst night, slept terribly, and even had a nightmare. Pregnant and having
decided to keep the baby, she hadn’t bothered with makeup since, and it showed, although she still
looked pretty stunning..
Lizetta brushed Remington’s hand away with a cool, indifferent voice, “I’m fine. Mr. Dashiell, busy as a
bee, managed to make time for lunch with others too, right?”
As soon as she finished speaking, her chin was lifted by the man, forcing her to meet his gaze. The
lighting in the corner was poor, and with the man’s head bowed, his handsome features were half in
shadow, his pupils oozing danger.
“Mr. Dashiell? My, my, I seem to be donning quite a few hats around you.”
Lizetta gave a fakeugh, “If you don’t like it, I can stick to Remington Dashiell.”
“Pick something more endearing or don’t expect me to let go.”
Lizetta rolled her eyes, “Like what?”
Remington leaned in, his forehead against hers, his deep voice vibrating near her nose. He uttered,
“Try ‘honey‘.”
Lizetta thought her ears were busted. It’d been two years, and he hadn’t epted her as
his wife.
He didn’t like her calling him “Remi“, nor was he keen on “honey“.
Now, as she was gunning for a divorce and he was parading around with Evelina, he suddenly wanted
her to call him “honey”?
“Heh, Remington, are you kidding me?”
Lizetta was sarcastic, and Remington, utterly dissatisfied with her reaction, lifted her face higher and
nted a punishingly hot kiss on her lips.
If all this pretty little mouth can do was spout stuff he hated, might as well bite it off and be done with it!
Lizetta wanted to protest and curse, “You jerk, Remington!” But all that came out was, “Mmm, mmm!”
01-151
He must have been drinking, the taste of red wine seeping through their intertwined lips Lizetta thought
about how it was all for schmoozing with Evelina, which made her eyes go red with anger. She tried to
kick him.
But the man pressed her even harder against the wall, his knee wedging her legs apart, his right thigh
pressing into the crook of Lizetta’s leg, and his hot hand tracing down along her waistline.
Lizetta wanted to bite him, but he just chuckled derisively and kissed her even more aggressively,
leaving her teeth and gums tingling.
Just as Lizetta was about to burst into tears, she heard the sound of high heels. It was Evelina and
Shirleying!
The mistress was here, and this douchebag was about to crash and burn. Lizetta thought to herself,
and didn’t bother to struggle anymore, even wrapping her arms around Remington’s neck.
She waited to see Remington’s embarrassment, wondering if Evelina would scratch his face. But to her
surprise, instead of panicking and pushing her away, Remington responded even more passionately to
her, and his body reacted in turn.
Lizetta felt it and her eyes widened at the approaching footsteps. She thought Remington must’ve lost
it. Didn’t he hear someoneing?
Or maybe he didn’t know it was Evelina? That had to be it. Lizetta stiffened, waiting for Evelina’s
screams and frenzy, but.
The footsteps stopped, and then suddenly retreated, chaotic, like fleeing. Lizetta was like,
“??”
“Ouch!” She was full of questions when her tongue got bitten. And finally, Remington backed off,
loosening his grip on her.
Lizetta was weak–kneed, sliding down and ending up almost straddling his right leg, her thigh against
that part of him, the heat scorching even through theyers of clothing.
Blushing and embarrassed, Lizetta tried to stand but her legs wouldn’t cooperate, and she red at
him annoyed, “You!”
Remington cut her off, “Don’t me me; your response just now was too much to handle.” Lizetta
hadn’t realized before how good he was at turning the tables. She struggled a bit, and Remington’s
hand on her waist squeezed a warning.
“Stop squirming!” He was still catching his breath, his voice deep and hoarse.
Lizetta, mortified, said, “Just stop talking!”
A light chuckle escaped from Remington’s chest, tempting as sin.
04:15
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Lizetta, thinking about how Evelina and Shirley had seen everything, and how even now, someone
coulde down the hallway at any moment, felt like a shrimp boiling in a pot, turning redder by the
second.
Thankfully, Remington soon helped her to stand and stepped back. Lizetta instinctively nced down
at him, and he lifted a hand to cover her eyes.