Chapter 162 Is Thirty Dollars Enough?
The bathroom was unusually silent, and the sound of Keith's leather shoes hitting the floor was exceptionally clear. Harper stood frozen, and his footsteps, like a rapid drumbeat, stroked her nerves. In contrast, Francis remained completely calm, and his handsome face displayed an air of inevitability.
Harper's nails dug into her palms, and her anger caused her to grit her teeth. Although she was only pretending to be Keith's girlfriend, Francis didn’t know. Yet, he remained calm and showed no signs of guilt or entanglement with her. But now was not the time to argue with him. At this time, she wanted to disappear from the earth to prevent herself from running into another person. After much thought, she realized only Francis could help her. He surely had a way.
Harper lifted her face, and her beautiful eyes carried a hint of pleading. Francis' eyes deepened as he understood her plight. He mouthed, "Beg me." At that moment, his expression was exceptionally cold, and he was wearing a look Harper was familiar with. He was waiting for her to make a decision. She knew how to please him, just like every time before.
Keith knocked lightly on the door and asked, "Is anyone in there?" Instantly, a chill ran up Harper's spine. Startled, she stopped thinking and instinctively wrapped her arms around Francis' neck. Her legs hooked around his lean waist, and her rosy lips bit his Adam's apple.
She heard Francis' sharp intake of breath, which almost escaped his lips. Frightened, she quickly covered his mouth, but she began to slip, nearly falling. Fortunately, his dry large hand caught her just in time.
Outside, Keith's patience had worn thin. He placed his hand on the doorknob and was ready to push it open. Suddenly, a janitor entered, looked at him, and said, "Sir, that stall is under maintenance. Could you use another one?"
After speaking, the janitor pushed the cart inside and politely asked, "Sir, are you using it now? If not, I'll start cleaning." Keith's expression tightened. Although there was a gap under the stall door, he would never stoop to check in front of others. Suppressing his discomfort, he had no choice but to leave.
The janitor began cleaning diligently, vacuuming, and mopping, creating some noise. Harper finally breathed a sigh of relief, and her body relaxed. She didn't want to hang on Francis for another second and prepared to get down, but Francis firmly pressed her hips against the door. His dark eyes were cold as he said, "You think you can just use me and then run?"
Harper retorted, "When did I use you? It was the janitor who came in just now..."
Francis punched the door with a loud sound. Harper froze, and her eyes widened in shock. There was still a janitor cleaning outside. Was he crazy? The next second, she realized the janitor seemed oblivious. Despite the loud noise, the janitor acted as if he hadn't heard it, which could only mean Francis had given him prior instructions. This also indicated that from the moment he dragged her into the bathroom, he harbored ill intentions and deliberately tried to embarrass her.
Anger slowly rose within her. Harper, suppressing her fury, said, "Put me down. I want to go back." Francis narrowed his eyes and asked, "You're going back like this?" Harper was stung by his disdainful look, and her chest tightened. In her current state, she certainly couldn't return to the dining table. She had to go back first and then think of an explanation. She now resembled a flower bud that had been ravaged while Francis appeared perfectly normal as his clothes was neat and his expression stayed calm, exuding an air of detached serenity.
It was as if it had nothing to do with him why she looked like a mess. She huffed, "None of your business."
Looking at her, Francis was momentarily amused by his anger. "Do you really think I can't handle you?"
Harper frowned slightly and was about to retort and emphasize that he was the real culprit. But then she heard him say coldly, "Why do you never learn to be good?"
Immediately, Francis tilted his head and kissed her with his thin lips cold and fierce. He sucked her lips into his mouth. Harper panicked and tried to turn her head away, but he wouldn't allow it. He forcefully turned her face back, and his lips precisely captured hers and bit down. And he was determined to teach her a lesson.
Harper felt a mix of itchiness and pain from the bite, letting out a short soft moan. But the lesson he intended to give her didn't stop there. His long, dry hand roamed restlessly over her body, eventually slipped into her underwear, and vigorously rubbed her most sensitive area.
At first, he was kissing her on the lips. Then, with one hand, he quickly unhooked her bra and lowered his head to take her aroused nipple into his mouth. He increased the frequency of his tongue's movements, biting and sucking on her soft chest while his other hand continued to rub her clitoris. His breathing grew heavier.
A flush of unnatural redness appeared on Harper's face. The fluids from her lower body increased, and she couldn't help but let out a few soft gasps. Her thoughts teetered on the edge of collapse and several times tried to push his hand away, but it was like trying to stop a car with her bare hands, which was utterly futile.
He suppressed his sexual desire, purely aiming to tease her. He couldn't believe that she, who once loved this way offered by him, now showed no response to his provocations.
Their struggle was as intense as a boxing match, with Harper being the one utterly defeated. Gradually, she stopped struggling violently and let him bite, suck, and kiss her lips. Her mind emptied and her consciousness floated like a phantom as she was only able to feel his tongue moving over her body.
She tried to stay awake, and when he finally released her lips, she weakly said, "Francis, you're shameless. What does this prove?"
Francis, of course, had something he wanted to prove, and the facts were evident before them. "What do you think I've proven?"
He stood still, slightly panted, and pressed his thumb heavily on her lips; his scent was sweet and rich. "Do you still dare to deny that you have feelings for me?"
Harper turned her face away to prevent seeing his arrogant expression, but he grabbed her chin and turned her back to face his deep eyes. His chiseled, handsome face had a slight sheen of sweat, and his shirt was soaked through, which made him exude a forbidden allure.
He raised an eyebrow and pressed her. "You're with Keith just to spite me, aren't you?"
Indeed, those words were meant to provoke him, but Harper would never admit it. She had already missed one chance and would not make the same mistake again.
Harper looked at him and said with a smile playing on her lips, "Mr. Getty, what makes you think there’s anything between us? Why would I spite you with the cost of my name?"
Francis' face turned pale for a moment as his brows furrowed. "Harper, your body can't lie."
Harper tilted her face slightly as her expression went open. "I admit I have feelings."
Francis' expression changed subtly as excitement began to show up. But then, Harper's lips curled into a mocking smile. "That's because you're good at flirting. I'm not taking advantage of you for nothing."
Harper picked up her purse from the floor, rummaged through it, pulled out a few bills, and stuffed them into Francis's shirt collar. In a flippant tone, she asked, "Is thirty dollars enough?"
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