Chapter 661
Chapter 661
I squinted my eyes and pulled Dustin right in front of me, glaring up into his face. "Ernest, you finally showed up... You son of a gun, what took you so long?"
Dustin's face was a picture of discomfort as he gently pressed my hand. "Felicia, you're drunk. I'm not Ernest."
"No, you are Ernest," I insisted, reaching up to trace his brow. "You're my Ernest. You've changed your heart; you don't love me anymore, you don't want me anymore..."
Men hate being a stand-in, especially Dustin, who was so fond of me. My words felt like a knife to his heart.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my shoulder as Dustin gripped me tightly, giving me a shake. "Look at me, who am I?"
I stared at him, and after a few seconds, my lips quivered, and then I burst into tears...
"Ernest, you bully me, you jerk..." I sobbed and cursed.
For a woman, tears are the most powerful weapon in front of the man she loves. My crying made Dustin loosen his grip.
I tried to push him away, to hit him, but he just scooped me up and carried me outside.
As Dustin was taking me out of the private room, Allen sauntered over, chuckling, "A bottle of Scotch, enough to knock any guy off his feet."
Hearing this, I silently bit my lip. That scoundrel had dared to play me, but fortunately, I was prepared.
Dustin didn't say a word, just carried me away with long strides, leaving Allen to call after us, "Mr. Wagner, don't forget to thank your wingman for the lovely night."
Their relationship was indeed special.
Dustin took me to his place, somewhere I hadn't known about or visited before. It wasn't a mansion, just a spacious apartment.
He set me down on the couch and then just stared at me.
I played dead, tilting my head away, silent.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.
Gradually, he leaned closer, and I could feel his breath on my skin.
I could even sense his lips nearly brushing against me...
My blood froze in nerves, but I didn't move an inch.
Because I knew he wasn't really trying to take advantage of me, he was just testing me...
If Dustin had intended to force
himself on me or take advantage of
the situation, he wouldn't have waited until now. He wanted my wholehearted consent.
So, he wouldn't truly touch me, but he was suspicious I was feigning drunk, trying to deceive him.
Just as I thought, he stayed close
without going any further,
entual
standing up and leaving when
love
continued my act of being unresponsive.
I lay on the couch, slightly opening my eyes to sneak a peek around his apartment, noting the design style wasn't much different from his place in Houston.
So, his tastes were unique, unchanging.
Whether it was his preference in decor or in people.
They say obsession is dangerous, and it seemed to be true.
Dustin went to another room to make a call. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but before he finished, there was a loud banging on the door.
I heard it, but playing drunk, I couldn't go to answer it.
Dustin, disturbed, came out from the other room and went to the door.
As he opened it, there was a loud bang, and I clearly saw Dustin's body jolt back a step, nearly tumbling over.