Chapter 153 The Style of the Engagement Party
Regaining a shred of her rationality, Eula mustered and pushed against Judson with both hands. He, too, partially emerged from the haze of passion, slowly getting off her. Sitting up, she noticed her clothes were torn open, revealing her white...
Grabbing a pillow, she used it to shield her chest, "Judson, that was way too far."
Judson was still boiling with desire, yearning to continue, but he saw the impossibility reflected in Eula's actions. Breathing heavily, his eyes gleamed with a fierce determination – one day, he would win her over.
With a mischievous smile, he teased, "Where exactly was that hand going? Didn't you know that's a sensitive spot for a man?"
Eula blinked her large eyes, puzzled. She'd been applying medicine the whole time; it wasn't like she was intentionally reaching for anything specific.
"How should I know? I'm not a man."
Recalling the earlier moments drove her nearly insane; the sensation was unexpectedly intense. She wanted more, but that must be just a physical reaction – nothing more. She was 24, after all; having desires was normal, just perfectly normal.
Behind the pillow, Eula's hand fiddled with her buttons, unsure of when he had undone them. And the way he had pinched her – that jerk Judson, she felt a strong urge to punch him. If it wasn't for the debt she owed him, if it wasn't for the high salary he paid, she'd definitely give him a piece of her mind.
Judson stood up and reached for the black shirt on the bed. He slipped into it with one hand, fastening the buttons with his gaze remained fixed on her.
"Eula, I've told you, I like you, and this is what you do with someone you like."
He, Judson, wouldn't touch her if he didn't care. Otherwise, countless women would gladly jump into his bed if he merely hinted at the desire.
Eula finally managed to button up her shirt, sliding off the bed and smoothing down her skirt.
"Judson, I hope you'll show some respect in the future. Even if you like me, did I give my consent? If I don't consent, it's still an invasion, and I could sue you for that."
With those words, she briskly walked to the door, pulled it open, and left.
Judson looked at the now empty room, wondering why it felt like home when she was here.
Now that she had left, the house turned cold and unwelcoming, void of any warmth.
He donned his suit with a cool detachment, a shadow of darkness fleeting in his eyes.
His phone rang. Grabbing it, he answered, "Talk to me."
"Judson, the venue for your engagement party with Miss Lowe next week is booked. Do you want to come and confirm personal details? Like the decor and the style of the engagement party?"
Judson was already in a foul mood, and Myles seemed to be looking for a scolding.
"Just make the decision; you don't need my input."
The call ended abruptly, leaving Myles bewildered. The wedding planner nearby inquired, "Do Judson and Mrs. Nash want to confirm the style themselves? We can customize based on their preferences. For someone of his stature, it has to be perfect; after all, it's a once-in-a-lifetime thing!"
Already peeved from being yelled at, Myles grew even more annoyed at the mention of 'once in a lifetime.'
Judson clearly loved Miss Lowe, yet he was set to be engaged to her, so his sour mood made sense.
Casually, Myles pointed at a design and said, "Let's go with this one."
