CHAPTER 123: CHAPTER 123: WHEN A WOMAN SAYS NO, SHE MEANS YES

"No."

Blake Sinclair didn’t hesitate at all.

With firm conviction and an honest gaze.

A sweet feeling bubbled up in Holly Crowe’s heart, like tiny fireworks going off inside.

But she still habitually put on a brave front, turning her head, pretending to be magnanimous, mumbling, "Actually, even if you were really together, it’s no big deal. Everyone has an ex, it’s quite normal."

Blake Sinclair’s heart softened at her feigned bravado, which was actually full of jealousy.

He cupped her face, repeated again firmly, with utmost seriousness, "We never were together, never. Holly, it’s always been you."

He paused for a moment and continued to explain, "While I was in Brelond, her father was my driver, a decent man who took good care of me. Later, when her family had some troubles, I helped her finish her studies out of respect for her father, that’s all."

Blake Sinclair gently held her hand, "Between us, there’s never been anything beyond that of a benefactor and a beneficiary. Not before, not now, and never in the future. Believe me, Holly."

He spoke very sincerely.

Actually, from his attitude, you could tell there was nothing between him and Shannon Yarrow.

But hearing it directly was different from letting your imagination run wild.

The awkwardness in Holly’s heart slowly dissipated.

She pressed her lips together, and this time she finally stopped being stubborn, leaning into his embrace.

"Ah.. I understand. Then.. I’ll forgive you one last time, next time, I really won’t want you anymore."

"There won’t be a next time."

The stone over Blake Sinclair’s heart finally fell to the ground.

Feeling the person in his arms becoming soft again, the smile and love in his eyes slowly spread wider.

He tightened his arms around her, enclosing her firmly in his territory.

Sunlight filled the entire room.

Serene peace enveloped the room.

All misunderstandings and anxieties melted away into mutual warmth on this morning.

...

The cold war started and ended silently.

Returning home in the evening, Holly found that all her things from the guest room had been moved back to the master bedroom.

Her pajamas, skincare products, even the book she was halfway through reading, were neatly placed back in their original spots in the master bedroom.

And except for the master bedroom, all other room doors had been locked from the outside.

A delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen.

Blake Sinclair was handling ingredients with an apron on.

Holly quietly walked up behind him and suddenly spoke, "Blake Sinclair, last night, how did you get into my room? I remember I locked it."

Blake Sinclair’s hand holding the knife paused for a moment, but he didn’t turn around.

Holly sneaked to his side, but it was as if he had eyes on his back.

Deliberately avoiding her, if she went left, he would turn right to check the soup in the pot, if she turned right, he would turn back to grab the seasonings.

Holly’s irritation flared, annoyed.

She stepped in front of him, tiptoeing to almost poke her face against his.

With a "pop" sound, she pressed his hand holding the vegetables down on the chopping board.

"Spill! How exactly did you get in?"

Blake Sinclair gazed at her, her angry wide eyes, looking like a little cat whose fur was standing on end.

His heart moved, almost instinctively bowing his head.

Holly saw his head lowering and instantly saw through his intention.

Her free hand quickly rose, covering the lips about to fall, "I’m asking you a question, what are you thinking about!"

"I want to kiss you." Blake Sinclair’s voice was somewhat muffled behind her hand.

But in Holly’s ears, it was exceptionally clear.

His deep eyes were brimming with unhidden desire and mirth.

Holly: "...."

Stunned by his straightforward three words, her brain froze.

Her guilty eyes averted, only to collide with the view of his collarbone revealed as he leaned over.

He was still wearing the white shirt from earlier in the day, with just two buttons undone, showing a hint of collarbone.

Over the shirt, he wore a yellow apron, tied simply at the back, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

This ironically ascetic look strangely blended with the homely atmosphere of the kitchen, and combined with the mischievous smile in his eyes, Holly felt her knees weaken a little.

Her face instantly flushed, her mind uncontrollably popping up with all sorts of wild thoughts.

Her heartbeat quickened absurdly, almost sucked into the depth of his eyes, feeling a little dazed from the attraction.

She shook her head, forcing out all the inappropriate thoughts from her mind, "Don’t change the subject. Explain clearly, how exactly did you get into the room."

Blake Sinclair looked at her flushed ears and curved his lips.

He knew there was no escaping today.

So he had to confess truthfully.

He raised his hand, removing her hand from his mouth, "Actually, I have a key to every room..."

"What are you saying?"

Holly inhaled sharply in surprise when she heard he unlocked her room every night after she fell asleep.

"You come to my room every night?... What kind of habit is that? Blake Sinclair, how come I never noticed this dark side of you before?"

Blake Sinclair chuckled softly, holding her hand, and lowered his head to kiss her palm gently.

"Now you’ve found out, but it’s too late."

He spoke calmly, without a trace of panic at being seen through, even carrying a hint of smugness.

Holly shuddered slightly, her shoulders uncontrollably flinching.

She withdrew her hand, rubbing the palm he had kissed.

The air seemed a bit hot, was the kitchen fire too high?

Holly didn’t dare to look up at him again.

"You rogue! Can’t be bothered with you!"

Leaving this sentence, she turned around and fled in panic.

From that day on, Holly slowly began to sense the deliberately concealed side of Blake Sinclair.

He seemed to have torn away his gentle and jade-like disguise, no longer hiding his domineering and obstinate nature, as well as his ruthlessness in some aspects.

Especially when it came to matters of the heart.

Previously, when she said she was tired, he would always restrain himself and stop, even if he was still unsatisfied, he would put her feelings first.

But ever since the day their cold war ended, her phrase "no means yes" seemed to have activated some dangerous switch in him.

Every time she said she was tired and couldn’t go on, it was like he got more excited.

After an intimate moment, the air was thick with the scent of affection.

Holly reached out with a weak hand and lightly pushed the man beside her, "Blake Sinclair, I want to sleep now, no more..."

Blake Sinclair tucked the damp strands of hair on her forehead behind her ear, his gaze deep: "Holly once said, ’no more’ actually means ’yes’.

Holly: "...."

Is that really appropriate?

Is that how it’s supposed to be used?

Being able to interpret like that, he must have always aced his language exams.

Blake Sinclair looked at her stunned expression and chuckled, his soft laughter sending tingling sensations to her ears, causing Holly to shiver down her spine.

"Holly, am I getting it right?" he deliberately asked.

"...."

Holly couldn’t argue with him, feeling both embarrassed and annoyed, she bit his shoulder, leaving a faint, round mark of her teeth.

Blake Sinclair looked down at the mark, not only was he not annoyed, but the darkness in his eyes deepened, and his smile widened, as if it wasn’t just a mark, but a badge of honor.

He wrapped his large hand around her waist, easily pulling her back into his arms.

Whispering and breathing mingled together, his scorching breath falling by her ear.

"Holly, so now is it yes or no?"

"N-no more..." Holly instinctively refused, her voice trembling.

"No more? That means yes!" he purposely misconstrued, his insinuation strong.

"Y-yes... no more..." Holly’s mind went blank, her words becoming incoherent.

"Is that a yes?"

"...."

"Why isn’t Holly speaking?" he murmured, his kiss landing on her collarbone, "Am I not doing well enough? Then continue teaching me..."

"....."

Holly couldn’t retort, left speechless.

All her protests were swallowed by him, and in the end, she could only be swept away by him, once again tossed about in the sea of passion.

This led to every instance in the following days, when Holly heard the words "yes or no," she would reflexively want to cover his mouth.

That night, Blake Sinclair had just put the dishes in the dishwasher, when he turned to see Holly coming out of the bedroom, having changed into a different outfit.

She was wearing a beige halter sleeveless chiffon dress, the soft light accentuating her fair skin, making her look gentle and charming.

Blake Sinclair’s eyes lit up, a flash of astonishment crossing them.

"Holly, you...." he said as he walked up, wrapping his arm around her waist, about to lower his head.

"Stop!" Holly looked at him warily, taking a big step back, her hands instinctively protecting her chest.

She picked up her phone and checked her neck in the screen, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw no marks.

"I have a live stream tonight, don’t think about things you shouldn’t," she warned, her tone carrying a cautionary note.

"Live stream?" Blake Sinclair frowned, looking at her carefully dressed appearance, a hint of jealousy in his voice, "What kind of live stream?"

"The director’s team for ’Success’ called me this morning, tonight they’re airing the episode I recorded, and they want me to do a watch party live stream with the audience for some interaction."

Holly glanced at the time on her phone, quickly typing a reply to a message.

After sending the message, she looked up at Blake Sinclair, holding out her hand, "I’m going to live stream in the study later, give me the key!"

Blake Sinclair felt a surge of jealousy again, like drinking vinegar, bubbling uncontrollably.

Reluctantly, he handed her the key, placing it in her palm, "Really need to lock the door?"

"Absolutely have to! You have a record! Don’t come in later and disturb me, got it!"

Leaving no room for negotiation, Holly grabbed the key and walked towards the study.

The door closed, and the click of the lock could even be heard from inside.

Blake Sinclair stood there, watching the closed door, listening to the faint sound of her laughter coming from the study, his gaze gradually becoming deeper.

A live stream, is it?

If he wasn’t mistaken, she seemed to say "no more" again just now.....