She sent the ssage, but there was no reply from Connor Quinn.
Moira Sloan waited a bit, then glanced at the ti at the top of her screen: 12:34 AM.
She arched an eyebrow. ’He’s probably asleep.’
A little while later, she put her phone down and was just about to go to sleep when the bedroom door was suddenly thrown open. A tall figure, silhouetted by the dim yellow light from the hallway, walked in.
Moira Sloan squinted, watching as the tall man walked to the side of the bed and scooped her into his arms.
The mont he lifted her, she scowled and started cursing him out.
The man took the verbal abuse without a word, striding quickly as he carried her back to his own room.
The mont they landed on the double bed, he grabbed her slender ankle and pulled. Before she could kick him, he had her skirt hiked up and was pressing her down beneath him.
"You bastard."
Moira Sloan was certain that Connor Quinn was throwing a tantrum.
Because he was being exceptionally rough with her tonight.
Not just rough, but tornting.
By the end of the night, Moira Sloan was completely drained of strength.
Yesterday, she’d felt like a scholar who’d stumbled into the Orchid Temple and had his life force drained; now, it was as if that already-drained scholar had been put through the wringer all over again.
’Miserable. Just miserable.’
So when Connor Quinn carried her out of the bathroom and placed her directly on his bed, she didn’t have the slightest objection. In fact, when he drew near, she instinctively snuggled into his arms, finding a comfortable spot to curl up in...
A mont later, drifting in and out of sleep, Moira Sloan suddenly thought of sothing and mumbled, "I want custard buns for breakfast."
Behind her, Connor Quinn let out a low chuckle. "Mm."
Her voice thick with sleep, Moira Sloan asked, "Connor Quinn, did you just laugh?"
"No," Connor Quinn’s voice was a low rumble.
"Oh," Moira Sloan replied.
「The next day.」
Moira Sloan was sound asleep when she was jolted awake by a phone ringing on the nightstand.
She fumbled for the phone instinctively, pressing the answer button with a frown. "Hello?"
There was no imdiate reply. After about four or five seconds, a hesitant, slightly trembling voice ca from the other end. "Li-Little Junior?"
"Why are you stuttering?" Moira Sloan asked.
"I... I wasn’t calling you," Caleb Lockwood stamred.
Moira Sloan was speechless.
A mont later, Connor Quinn’s deep, lazy morning voice rumbled from behind her. "Moira Sloan, you answered my phone."
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