CHAPTER 173: CHAPTER 173: STAY TONIGHT?

A strong scent of smoke and alcohol wafted in.

As Vera Sheridan raised her head, her eyes lit up, and her heart felt as if it had been struck heavily by something.

Their eyes met.

Noah Grant stood just outside the elevator, tall in stature, his tie loosened, with a few buttons undone on his white shirt collar, revealing a flush from the alcohol on his neck.

With a mature and handsome face, dark deep eyes, he gazed at her with a teasing hint of a smile.

The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his lips curved up playfully, and in a magnetic, raspy voice, he said, "...Ms. Sheridan, am I... hallucinating from drinking?"

As he spoke, he stepped in, closing the distance between them.

Vera’s cheeks instantly burned, wrapped in the heat and scent of alcohol radiating from him, her heart racing frantically.

She instinctively stepped back until she could retreat no further.

Noah Grant grasped her slender wrist, pressing the elevator button that was about to close, "So late, where are you going? Go back."

The man’s gaze burned with an intoxicated obsession, locking her in tightly.

Vera shivered.

The next second, she was forcefully pulled out of the elevator by him...

"Noah Grant, what are you doing..."

Ignoring her slight struggles, he dragged her into his domain.

As soon as he turned on the light, a faint scent of herbal medicine permeated the air. Noah Grant glanced at the kitchen and then looked back at her.

The entryway light illuminated her pink-tinged, fair face.

Vera met his gaze and swallowed, "I just made you some hangover soup."

"Had quite a bit, didn’t you?"

At these words, the man’s intense gaze suddenly softened. After pausing for a few seconds, he chuckled lowly, "You specifically came up... to make this for me?"

Vera didn’t reply, leading the way to the kitchen. Noah Grant followed, lazily leaning against the door frame, quietly watching her serve the soup and test its temperature with a spoon.

Under his gaze, she had to steady the bowl with effort, careful not to spill the soup.

"Neither cold nor hot, drink it all."

He took it, obediently drained it in one go.

Setting down the bowl, he gently confined her between the countertop and himself, looking down at her while softly brushing aside the strands of hair on her cheek, his fingertips unintentionally grazing her earlobe.

A tingling sensation shot through her, goosebumps rising on the back of her neck, her heart quivering.

"You... how’s the company project..." Her words of concern were abruptly cut off by him.

"Stay the night?" His voice was warm and husky.

Raising her eyes, she met his gaze filled with intent and even an aggressive undertone.

She felt scalded, her heart pounding like a drum.

Instinctively, she turned her head, avoiding his overly intense gaze, her voice trembling, "I... Lucky is still at home..."

Noah leaned in, his warm breath brushing against her lips, mingling with the scent of smoke, alcohol, and hangover soup, "You spend every night with that little thing... while I’m alone every night."

A soft, enticing whisper.

"..."

Noah pressed his forehead gently against hers, brushing his nose lightly against hers, his voice becoming more coaxing, "Hmm? Ms. Sheridan... answer me."

Vera was numbed by his coaxing, her mind turning to mush, incapable of any thought. As his cool lips touched hers, her legs weakened, her hands instinctively clutching his suit lapels.

A dominant yet lingering kiss, from the kitchen to his bedroom.

She fell onto the deep blue silk-covered bed, its cool, smooth texture highlighting the heat of her skin.

The weight of the man’s body pressed down on her.

The air filled with the sound of their mingling breaths, the temperature rising with the ambiance.

...

Vera, overwhelmed and disoriented, clutched the sheets tightly, her lustrous eyes shimmering, lips swollen, her dark hair fanned out on the bed.

...

Noah used the last bit of his reason, resting his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, "Be good, okay?"

Vera, looking into his turbulent dark eyes, her body responded before her mind, sticking close to him.

In an instant, a drop of sweat that had accumulated at Noah’s temple rolled down.

As his rough palm skimmed over her leg, Vera suddenly remembered something and blurted out, "Condom..."

Noah froze abruptly, a hot drop of sweat falling onto her tousled chest.

Vera, meeting his irresistibly sexy face, stammered, "Do you... have one?"

He definitely didn’t!

Truly provoked by her.

"Should I go get one?" Noah recalled she bought a box last time, asking in a husky voice.

The next second, Vera felt the weight lift off her.

The man, clothes disheveled, had already left the room.