Curtis's movements suddenly halted.
Dakota's unexpected sound was like a skylark just waking up in the morning, evoking images of sunshine, green fields, and paired butterflies, all bright and suggestive of reproduction...
Dakota was also stunned.
She had been laughing and talking with Curtis, but unexpectedly, his massage hit a sensitive spot.
She was completely unaware that she had made that sound!
In an instant, the air seemed to fill with an ambiguous atmosphere, sticky and awkward.
"Um..."
Both spoke almost simultaneously.
After their voices collided, Dakota, frustrated, buried her face back into the pillow.
This is really something!
Is this what married life is like?
Never knowing whether an accident or social death will come first.
Dakota scratched the sheets with her nails.
Curtis's Adam's apple bobbed slightly; he loosened his grip, turning his face away awkwardly, his ears red.
"...Uncomfortable?" he asked.
"No, no."
Dakota said the truth instinctively, but saying it made the atmosphere even more awkward!
Saying it wasn't uncomfortable meant...
Comfortable.
Comfortable, that's why she made a sound.
No way!!
Dakota lightly tapped her lips.
What was she saying?!
However, Curtis didn't notice her distress. His mind was replaying Dakota's moan, which had stirred something within him.
The heat in his chest didn't fade—instead, it surged downward, pooling in his abdomen.
Damn.
Curtis couldn't help but curse inwardly, struggling to quell the dirty thoughts of grabbing Dakota's waist and pulling her closer.
"I, I'm done!"
But then, Dakota pushed herself up from the bed and scurried to the corner, curling up with the blanket, her face noticeably flushed, "I think my back doesn't hurt that much anymore."
In short, regardless of whether her back still hurt, she couldn't let Curtis continue the massage.
Curtis didn't insist, "Okay."
He feared that if he continued for another second, he wouldn't be able to control himself.
"Just rest well then."
Curtis stood up, turned around, and swiftly left the bedroom. The sound of the door closing soon followed.
Dakota let out a slight sigh of relief.
But the air still lingered with the remnants of intimacy, making Dakota's face flush and her heart race.
After returning to his room, Curtis was still burning with heat.
He irritably took out a lighter, flicked it open with his fingertips, and then closed it again in agitation.
He wanted to smoke.
That thought flashed through his mind.
Then, he remembered that Dakota disliked the smell of smoke.
So that thought vanished.
In the final moment, Curtis suddenly found their formal and celibate relationship incredibly frustrating.
He wished he could pull Dakota into his arms, press her beneath him, kiss her wildly, and do everything legally, instead of forcing himself to restrain and pretend to be a gentleman.
He was no gentleman at all.
In front of Dakota, he didn't even know how to spell the words.
So Curtis glanced at the bed from the corner of his eye.
That cold-toned bed, neatly made, which he had arrogantly set up for himself, declaring he had no interest in Dakota.
It was truly unnecessary.
This was Curtis's current evaluation of it.
"Tsk."
Even looking at this bed was irritating.
If he had known then, he shouldn't have agreed to separate beds and set up a separate room for himself.
Curtis walked to the bed.
He tossed the lighter onto the bedside table, suddenly noticing the water glass beside it.
For some reason, Curtis suddenly had an idea.
He bent down, picked up the water glass, idly swirled it, and then suddenly flung it.
"Swish—"
The water in the glass was splashed onto the bed.
The dark-colored sheet instantly darkened further, soaked over a large area.
But the culprit seemed rather pleased.
Curtis's eyebrows arched slightly as he looked at the soaked bed, his previously agitated mood easing significantly.
He bent down to place the water glass.
And then turned to leave the room.
Meanwhile, Dakota in the master bedroom next door had just calmed down, preparing to take a shower before bed.
But then, there was a knock on the door.
Knock knock knock—
Dakota walked over and opened the door, seeing Curtis's lazy yet tall figure as expected.
He was still wearing that black shirt, with the collar loose and the sleeves rolled up.
The warm lighting fell faintly on his facial features, highlighting a somewhat devilishly handsome appearance.
Dakota gazed up at him in confusion.
Not sure why Curtis, who had left and returned, was knocking on her door again.
And he remained silent,
Leaning lazily against the wall, glancing sideways at Dakota with one eye, unsure if he was hesitating or gathering his thoughts, he was indeed silent for a long time—
"Kota."
"My bed got accidentally wet."
Dakota: ?
What does a wet bed mean?
Was he asking her to help change the sheets?
Dakota was just about to offer,
But Curtis lightly pursed his lips and spoke more directly, "What I'm trying to say is—"
"My bed is soaked, right through to the mattress, even if we change the sheets, it's unusable tonight."
"So—"
Curtis leaned in closer, his gaze not entirely innocent, "I wonder if you would mind lending her bed for tonight."
