Chapter 69 Panic
Eula's eyes widened slightly. After the press. Her hand was pinned down on his... his...
She nearly screamed, wanting desperately to retract her hand, but Judson's grip was unyielding.
Frustrated by her lack of strength, Eula bit her lip, her eyes misting over, cheeks aflame as if on fire.
Their struggle led to an undeniable change in him, and Eula felt a rush of panic. What now? What do I do?
Her long lashes quivered, her eyes welled up with tears.
It was her first time taking care of someone drunk, and it was terrifying. She hadn't meant to touch his private parts; it was an accident.
Judson's breathing became labored, on the brink of losing control if she continued this way.
Then he released her hand, uttering a single word. "Off..."
With her hand freed, Eula took a few deep breaths. That left her exhausted, possibly more than if she'd run five kilometers. Her body was drenched with sweat, despite it being winter, and the room was barely above fifty degrees Fahrenheit.
The sweat poured down; she got tied up in knots.
She pushed at Judson and called out to him, "Judson, Judson, you jerk."
He didn't stir, so Eula set about undoing his belt, her lips taut as she pulled down the zipper.
It was awkward, embarrassingly intimate, and nerve-wracking.
As she managed to get his expensive trousers off, a wave of weakness hit her, and she stumbled backward against the wardrobe, gasping for air.
Now free, the man seemed to relax, lying there comfortably.
He suddenly propped himself up, looking at her.
Startled, Eula flung his pants aside. "Are you awake?"
Judson's gaze swept over her, noting her disheveled hair, flushed face, and bitten lip—she looked seductive and didn't even realize how enticing she appeared.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, murmuring, 'Uncomfortable.
With those two softly uttered words, Eula exhaled deeply, thankful he was still drunk.
Thankfully, he hadn't seen her undressing him; otherwise, he'd surely tease her.
She would deny this affair to her grave.
Tomorrow, she'd say it was Mary who undressed him—certainly not her.
Eula quickly went to his side. "Judson, you're uncomfortable, right? Let me wipe you down. Just sleep a bit, and you'll feel so much better when you wake up."
Her voice was as tender as if she were soothing a child.
Judson listened, a sense of enjoyment washing over him. A soft, obedient hum escaped his lips. "Mmm, yeah..."
After slipping into the bathroom, Eula quickly returned with a basin of water and started to gently wipe his face with a warm towel, then moved down to his neck, and continued downwards.
Once she had wiped him down, she tenderly covered him with a blanket.
She disappeared back into the bathroom and it was quite a while before she reemerged.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she gazed at the man who had already drifted off to sleep. Her hand reached out to hover in front of his nose, feeling the warmth of his breath. He was alive.
Throughout the night, she repeated this gesture until exhaustion finally overcame her.
It wasn't until she had fallen asleep that Judson, eager for his rest, opened his eyes. Her face, bathed in moonlight, looked serene and even more charming as she lay resting by the bed, her long eyelashes casting delicate shadows on her fair, sweet cheeks.
He lifted her into the bed, wrapping her in the covers, and couldn’t help but kiss her gently on the face, each kiss making him yearn for another, as if he could never have enough. Finally, his lips found hers and he took a light taste, and then he couldn't hold back any longer.
Chapter70 The Little Trickster
That night, Eula dreamt of struggling to breathe after falling into water, a sensation of discomfort pervading her sleep.
She woke up the next day feeling absolutely exhausted. Opening her eyes, she found herself inches away from a chiseled face. His eyes were closed, his long lashes casting shadows that made his already deep eyes appear even more enigmatic.
Eula watched him, mesmerized by his handsome, peaceful expression. She mused how a sleeping man could also be a masterpiece – if women were sleeping beauties, then he was a Western landscape painting, he was that magnificent Grand Canyon.
It took Eula a moment to snap out of her reverie.
Shaking her head, she tried to shake off the enchantment, finding this whole situation incredibly strange.
Feeling the woman in his arms stir, Judson tightened his hold, pulling Eula closer, her lips gently brushing against his face.
Judson's eyes open, meeting Eula's gaze.
Noticing her kiss, he smiled slyly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Were you stealing a kiss from me?" he accused playfully, as if she really was kissing him intentionally.
Eula sat up abruptly, her hand instinctively covering her mouth. "No, no, you've got it all wrong, I just..."
It was him who had pulled her into his arms, any contact was purely accidental, she wasn't trying to kiss him on purpose.
Seeing her flustered and fearful appearance only made Judson smile more radiantly, a stunning grin lighting up his face.
To Eula, this man was like a bewitching spirit, always leaving her feeling off-kilter, entranced, and completely out of control.
She ran a hand through her hair, trying to clear her head.
Judson furrowed his brow slightly. "What was that drink they gave me last night? I have a hangover."
Only then did Eula remember, this was her room. He had been drunk the night before, and she had taken care of him out of concern.
All the memories came flooding back to her as she glanced over at the bed.
When did she go into it? It seemed she had even snuggled up against someone.
Eula felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. How could she let herself act this way?
She had every intention of sleeping on the floor; she'd even made a makeshift bed. But somehow, she ended up on the bed instead.
So embarrassing!
Judson noticed her fidgeting, shaking her head, and messing with her hair.
She was adorably flustered, and he had to suppress a chuckle before asking her in a mock stern voice, "Fake booze?"
Eula waved him off, "No, it's the real deal, and top-quality at that."
Judson raised an eyebrow, "Hm! Missed dinner last night, did I? What about breakfast?"
There was something pitiful about the way Judson spoke.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, Eula said, “Judson, I'm truly sorry. My kids can be a handful. Please don't be upset. Breakfast is ready; you can eat after you freshen up."
She had already told Mary to prepare extra breakfast and make some warm soup to settle Judson's stomach.
Judson sat up, glanced down, and quickly pulled the blanket up to cover himself.
"Who took my clothes off?"
There was a flicker of fear in his eyes. Eula saw it—real fear and apprehension.
A grown man looking so vulnerable, was he afraid she'd done the deed with him?
"It was Mary, nothing to worry about. She’s old enough to be your mother; don’t give it another thought."
