As he held a towel to help her dry her hair, he saw a mark on her delicate collarbone through her not fully buttoned neckline. His hand slowly caressed from the back of her neck.
She stiffened: "Le... Leader—"
Incorrigible. His nimble fingers brushed over her lips.
Panicked, she retreated backward, her back pressed against the tiles, leaving her with no escape route, yet she dared not make a sound because her little uncle stood at the doorway waiting for them. For this reason, she was so nervous she started sweating all over.
What did he intend to do? It was early morning. His parents were waiting for them. If they were late, the thought of being called a vixen floated in her mind.
Apparently, the in-laws hated any daughter-in-law who caused their son to wake up late.
Her hands pressed against his shoulders.
