readytorunbook Chapter 269 - 267: Landing a Kiss
Chapter 269 - 267: Landing a Kiss
Before coming, Mia Grant had spent a long time at home picking out a swimsuit.
She’d considered everything, from the color to the style.
She wasn’t a fan of revealing styles, but she didn’t want to look like a little kid, either.
In the end, she chose three, each with a different style and color.
The one she was wearing now was the most conservative of the three.
It resembled a one-piece dress, just a bit short, barely covering the tops of her thighs. The hem swayed and rippled in the water, like a lotus flower blooming at her waist.
She was a swan gliding through a lotus pond. In her own mind, she was noble and elegant, but to an onlooker, she exuded a coquettish charm she herself was unaware of.
Kian Keller leaned down, picked up the half-empty drink beside her, and sniffed it. His brows furrowed.
It was alcohol.
His gaze shifted to her face. He had assumed the girl had just been soaking for too long, her exposed skin and even the corners of her eyes flushed an alluring pink.
Turns out, she was drunk.
"Get out."
Mia Grant looked at his outstretched hand but didn’t move. "Aren’t you going to come in and play?"
Kian Keller was in no mood for that. He flicked her forehead sharply. "You can’t soak in a hot spring after drinking."
She yelped in pain, her big, watery eyes glaring at him resentfully. Even angry, she didn’t forget her concern. "Did you drink?"
"You did."
"No, I didn’t!"
She looked utterly innocent, lowering her head to sniff herself carefully. She couldn’t smell any alcohol.
Kian Keller sighed in exasperation, unwilling to waste time on such a pointless argument with a drunk.
"Come on out. I’ll carry you."
"No~" She beckoned for him to join her.
Kian Keller reached out his hand. Thinking he was about to flick her again, she scrambled backward.
Her foot slipped, and with a SPLASH, she tumbled into the pool, choking on a mouthful of water.
Fortunately, she wasn’t far from the edge. Kian Keller dropped his cane and hauled her straight out of the water.
She clambered onto him, all arms and legs, clinging tightly like a koala as she coughed violently.
Kian Keller gently patted her back.
As she coughed, she must have felt terribly wronged. Her eyes reddened and fat tears began to fall, all while she started her accusations.
Kian Keller had no idea what she was saying.
She was rambling incoherently, making no sense at all.
First, she accused him of domestic abuse, then she complained that he was too old, didn’t know how to dote on her, and wouldn’t play with her.
’Hmph. Even when drunk, she doesn’t forget to take a dig at my age.’
Presumably, after being lectured earlier in the day, she had been forced to submit but was still harboring resentment.
Kian Keller carried her as he walked back. Without his cane, each step was slow, but his gait was steady, betraying nothing unusual.
Only when he reached the steps did he pause for a few seconds before ascending.
The woman in his arms was still making a fuss, completely oblivious to the veins bulging on his hand.
His shirt was soaked through, clinging to his skin. He could clearly feel the constant heat radiating from her body.
The swimsuit fabric was thin. Kian Keller placed her on the bed and looked down, realizing she looked like a beautifully wrapped present.
Crisscrossing straps, a cutout at the waist. As she moved, the hem of the skirt-like bottom lifted, revealing more than it concealed.
He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her delicate skin and let out a silent breath.
Mia Grant’s crying and fussing stopped after a little while.
Kian Keller thought that was the end of it; she was probably just tired.
The alcohol was taking effect, and she was about to fall asleep.
He turned to get her pajamas. He wasn’t sure which set she would want; girls had so many clothes, and it took him a while to find them.
When he returned, the woman on the bed was lying facedown on the pillow, a large expanse of her back exposed.
It was a beautiful sight—of course, if her shoulders hadn’t been trembling.
She was crying again.
When they had first met, she wouldn’t have dared throw a tantrum in front of him. Later, as they grew closer and his possessiveness began to show, it sparked her dissatisfaction, and she had started using tears and fusses.
As a result, he had grown used to it.
He also knew her outbursts were half-real, half-fake—mostly an act.
But he hadn’t seen her cry silently like this in a very long time.
It felt as if a feather were brushing back and forth across his heart.
Kian Keller put down the clothes and went over to lift her into his arms.
"Why are you crying again?"
He was no good at comforting people. In the past, he had always placated her with actions.
Buying her jewelry she liked, taking her out for fun.
He couldn’t express himself well, so right now he felt flustered and helpless. The situation was truly tricky.
He looked down at Mia Grant, but she stubbornly turned her head away, giving him the cold shoulder.
Her body was still damp, radiating a slight chill. And yet, she felt feverishly hot, like a furnace scorching his soul, tormenting him.
Kian Keller pursed his lips, turned her face back toward him, and wiped away her endless tears.
"Alright," he sighed. "If you want to play, I’ll get in the water with you tomorrow. Not today. You’ve been drinking, and you’ll feel sick if you soak any longer."
He tried to reason with her.
Her health wasn’t good to begin with. She didn’t seem to care, but he couldn’t afford to be careless.
She acted as if she hadn’t heard him and just kept crying.
’So that’s not it, then.’
Kian Keller thought for a moment, then said, "I wasn’t trying to hit you just now. I wanted to lift you out."
He gently touched the red mark on her forehead, which had long since faded.
Only then did she open her eyes, glaring at him. "You have to a-apologize to me!"
Kian Keller’s fingertips paused. For some reason, in this situation, he suddenly felt like laughing.
The tension eased. He brushed the pad of his thumb against the corner of her eye.
"I apologize."
"I shouldn’t have done that."
"I’m sorry."
Mia Grant pouted.
"Still not happy?"
He took her hand. "Then you can hit me back."
Mia Grant didn’t move. She stared at him for a long moment, then pulled her hand back and buried her face in his chest.
She fell silent again.
’Like a little quail.’
Kian Keller patted her back, about to coax her into changing into her pajamas and going to sleep.
Before he could speak, he heard a muffled voice from his arms.
"I hate you."
"..."
The man’s expression shifted. He gripped her chin, forcing her to look up.
"What did you just say?"
She refused to speak, and his mood soured. He lowered his head and kissed her hard on the lips.
Mia Grant tried to dodge, but she couldn’t escape.
She looked at him with wounded eyes, now probably truly furious.
She grabbed his tie, pulled her upper body up, and, turning the tables, kissed him.
The moment they fell back onto the bed, Mia Grant felt dizzy. She opened her eyes, and the chandelier above swayed back and forth, making her eyes ache.
Her mouth hurt, too.
It felt like her lip was split; the metallic taste of blood spread between her teeth.
The long-prepared present was finally being unwrapped.
The bow tied from a black ribbon hung loosely, coming undone with a gentle tug, freeing her from its constraints.
Kian Keller switched their positions, having her sit up.
The gifts hidden inside the box, as if from Pandora’s, leaped out eagerly.
Trembling, like a succulent peach on a tree, falling into his arms of its own accord once ripe.
Or like an eye-catching white rabbit in a field, ears twitching, its head lowered as it gazed at him with red eyes.
In the past, the rabbit had never liked his touch, always hiding whenever he came near.
Kian Keller leaned against the headboard, his dark eyes deep and heavy. His Adam’s apple bobbed incessantly. Finally, catching it off guard, he rose and kissed it.