Isabella Weaver’s nape was particularly sensitive. She shivered slightly, turned around, and deliberately called out to him, "Harry~ Harry, Harry~"
Harry Hunter was helpless, oh well, if she liked calling him that, so be it!
It actually felt... kind of different.
He pressed Isabella against the door, his tone ambiguous, "Since the pants are off, should we take this opportunity..."
Isabella’s ears started to turn red, "No way!"
"When you took off my pants earlier, you were quite assertive, why are you backing down now?"
Isabella regretted it; she had acted on impulse without considering the consequences!
"Then... why don’t you put your pants back on?"
Harry mimicked her earlier tone, "They’re dirty, I don’t want them!"
Isabella was at a loss whether to cry or laugh!
She really was good at digging holes for herself!
Harry teased her for a while, lifted her chin, kissed her soft lips, and savored her sweetness.
After a long ti, he finally released her, "Missed ?"
Isabella, panting and leaning against him, whispered, "I just suddenly really wanted to see you."
Harry felt a flutter in his heart and bowed his head to kiss her again.
"I was afraid you’d get mad about the photos the dia took, so I ssaged you. How co you’re so understanding this ti?"
"I’m not a petty person to begin with. Cherry Lewis did it on purpose; she even wore a low-cut dress today, which she never wore before. I can’t fall for it! She’s just trying to have us quarrel."
Harry didn’t notice what Cherry was wearing; the mont he was hugged by the legs, all he thought about was Isabella Weaver.
"My wife’s so clever!"
Harry praised her in a coaxing tone, "You really know how to differentiate between important and trivial matters! I had arranged to et with Evan Lewis today, and Cherry waited at our eting place with people to complain to the dia about my unfilial behavior and stir up trouble between us."
Isabella looked up at him, holding him a little tighter.
He must usually be under a lot of pressure, but he never says a word about it.
There was a knock on the door, and Connor’s voice ca through, "Young Madam, Young Master’s pants are here!"
Isabella opened the door, took the pants, and handed them to Harry.
Harry refused to take them, "You put them on ."
Isabella couldn’t help but laugh, "You’re such a grown man, and you still want to dress you!"
"You took them off , who else should dress but you?"
That made perfect sense!
Isabella squatted down to put the pants on him, and when she pulled them up to his hips, her hands inevitably touched his butt.
She couldn’t resist taking another look; was Harry’s butt always this perky? She hadn’t noticed before!
She mischievously patted it twice, and when she was zipping up his pants, she saw a certain part rise to prominence.
Her face flushed crimson, and she quickly backed away, "You, you, you..."
"It’s from your touch."
Harry had an entirely justified look, as if not reacting would be abnormal!
"Sit down!"
Isabella couldn’t let him go out like this, so she pushed him onto the sofa, handed him a glass of water, and started playing music for him.
Harry, sipping the water, was puzzled, "Why are you playing the ’Great Compassion Mantra’ for ?"
"It calms the mind, extinguishes desire!"
Harry almost choked; wasn’t she worried he’d turn into a monk from listening to that?
But the mantra was evidently very effective, as his body quickly returned to normal. He then left the office with Isabella.
As soon as Isabella stepped out of the office, she noticed Connor’s eyes were a bit red and couldn’t help but ask, "Connor, what happened to you?"
Harry also found it strange; why did Connor look like he was about to cry? He rarely shed tears!
"Young Madam, Cora and I broke up. She’s getting married!"
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