Chapter 26 Invitation

The room was warmed by heating, and Maggie took off her coat halfway and wore a milk-colored knitted dress inside. The front chest was unique, with a butterfly bow tie style, revealing a round and plump cleavage.
Harold lost his appetite and craved a cigarette. The cigarette box and lighter were stacked next to him, untouched. His gaze lingered on her clean face. "What happened to your face?"
"I had a minor accident at work," she replied.
She drank a bowl of soup, which was simple in presentation. She thought it was made of shrimp and crab meat, but sensing his burning gaze, her wound uncontrollably itched and burned.
Maggie raised her hand to cover it. "Don't look, it's not pretty."
Harold, being straightforward, said, "It's a bit ugly."
She simply put down her hand and spoon. "I'm full."
The man smiled and said, "I was just teasing you."
"No, I'm really full."
Maggie had a serious problem with controlling her diet. She was a famous female host on a major TV network, and she only drank fruit pulp for each meal to increase satiety.
Women loved beauty and paid great attention to their weight, figure, and face, putting in a lot of effort. Harold didn't comment on it.
He took off his coat and draped it over his arm. "I'll take you back since you're full."
The scent of citrus and ink emanated from him in the car, even stronger than when they arrived. Maggie was immersed in it. "You only came to treat me to a meal."
Harold said, "I'm busy with work, and it's hard to see you every few days."
In other words, he would come to see her whenever he had free time. Maggie didn't dare to think too much.
He gestured to Nick, who handed him a glass box from the driver's seat. Opening the lid, there was a palm-sized white porcelain bottle inside.
During their last "battle," not only were the decorative bottles shattered, but the dining table was still wobbly
Maggie caressed the four-leaf clover pattern on the bottle and looked at him sincerely. "Is it expensive? My knock-off version only cost twenty dollars. If it's expensive, I won't accept it."
He held back a laugh. "It's just a craft, it's not expensive."
Maggie carried the box and got out of the car. The scent of ink seemed even more tightly wrapped around her as the wind blew.
As she reached the entrance of the apartment building, she turned hesitant. The Audi was still parked in its original spot and flashed its hazard lights twice.
Impulsively, she turned back and knocked on the rear window.
Harold's face, with highly defined features, gradually appeared from behind the car window. "Did you drop something?"
Maggie's voice was soft and slightly strained. "I have some tea at home. Do you want to have some?"
...
As soon as the door opened, Maggie was pressed against it. She had mixed aphrodisiacs and rosemary in her bones, and Harold, accustomed to this, maintained his composure, embracing this soft and tender body.
The feeling of weariness instantly transformed into a frenzy of desire.
He pulled apart the knot on the front of her dress, revealing a rose-colored half-cup bra that accentuated her soft breasts. Pure and alluring, the sight made one's eyes burn.
He was eager and leaned over, teasing and sucking through the lace fabric. Maggie's bones felt weak, and she let out a stifled moan.
The hot breath from Harold's nostrils was like a spark, igniting a flame within her. It grew stronger and burned brighter.
Her pussy was wet and a hot stream seeped out.
Harold grabbed her wrist and slid his hand under his shirt, forcing her to touch his hot and solid abs and chest. His heartbeat was strong and powerful, unabashedly conveying his desire.
Leading her on, he rubbed the bulging hardness beneath his trousers, a fierce and passionate force that was yet to be released.
"We can't...do this here," she pleaded with a sob. The open doorway allowed the cold wind from the hallway to mix with the burning heat surrounding them, creating an intoxicating blend.
"Go on the couch," he commanded.