Shu Hua lingered for a while, waiting until most colleagues had left, then sneaked down to B Zone of the underground parking garage.
There it was—her familiar black Rolls-Royce Phantom, parked quietly.
She glanced around quickly, then opened the door and slipped inside.
The cabin was spacious. Pei Yanzhou sat in the front, reviewing documents on his tablet. Hearing her move, he looked up.
So today she had decided to drive herself.
“Good evening, President Pei,” Shu Hua greeted politely, fastening her seatbelt.
Pei Yanzhou put down the tablet, his deep gaze falling on her with a hint of scrutiny. “Getting used to today?”
“Pretty well. My colleagues are friendly, and the work is challenging,” Shu Hua replied, keeping it professional.
The man leaned slightly, radiating pressure, his fingers lightly lifting her chin. His voice was low and deliberate: “Avoiding me?”
Shu Hua’s heart skipped; her eyes darted. “Avoid you? Why would I do that?”
“At lunch, your head was nearly buried in your plate,” he pointed out slowly, his fingertips tracing the smooth skin of her chin.
Shu Hua’s face flushed. “I was thinking seriously about work!” she countered, feigning innocence.
Pei Yanzhou chuckled softly, letting it go. “And the new brand project… any ideas yet?”
“Yes, some preliminary concepts,” Shu Hua said, her eyes brightening at the mention of work.
She spoke briefly, then realized: “How did you know our department got this project?”
Leaning back, his expression calm: “Company matters… what is there I wouldn’t know?”
Shu Hua pursed her lips. Capitalists really think they know everything.
The air inside the car suddenly thickened, charged with a tense, almost molten intimacy.
Pei Yanzhou’s deep gaze locked onto her. Her outfit today—silk blouse in soft pink paired with a high-waist fishtail skirt—accentuated every curve: chest, waist, legs, all perfectly defined.
Shu Hua felt exposed under his stare. Her clear almond eyes, innocent yet slightly pouty, instinctively pushed out her soft pink lips.
That tiny, unaware gesture completely ignited the sparks hidden in Pei Yanzhou’s eyes.
Suddenly, he raised a hand, his long fingers gently hooking under her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Shu Hua blinked, flustered. “Aren’t you going to drive home?”
His fingertips traced the delicate skin of her chin, savoring the tempting touch. His voice dropped a few octaves: “Later.”
Looking into those familiar, dangerous eyes, Shu Hua instantly understood his intent. Her cheeks burned hot.
This man really…
“What did you just… call me?” Pei Yanzhou asked, unhurried, his fingertip brushing across her tender lips.
Shu Hua felt a ticklish shiver, retracting her neck slightly. “President Pei? What’s wrong?” she tried to reason, “At the office, you’re my boss—I should call you President Pei, right? Not at home.”
“Now it’s after hours,” Pei Yanzhou said. Before her words finished, a crisp “click” echoed—the seatbelt beside her was deftly released with one hand.
The next second, Shu Hua felt the world spin. A powerful force swept her from the passenger seat, and before she could even cry out, she was sitting sideways on Pei Yanzhou’s firm, muscular thigh.
“Ah!” she gasped, instinctively pressing her hands against his hard chest.
One of his arms circled her slim waist tightly, while the other, warm and commanding, boldly traced over the exposed skin of her thigh beyond the skirt hem, kneading just enough to tease.
Shu Hua’s skin tingled all over.
Her eyes darted around instinctively. Even though the car windows were darkly tinted, this was the company’s underground garage—anyone could pass by at any moment.
“Don’t… don’t do this!” she panicked, gripping his roaming hand. “We can talk… not here…”
Pei Yanzhou ignored her weak resistance, tightening his arms to trap her completely, leaning close, his heated breath brushing against her sensitive ear. “Call me.”
Shu Hua knew this man well. Usually reasonable, but when he wore that determined expression, outright defiance was futile.
Her specialty? Knowing when to yield.
She immediately abandoned all resistance, draping her soft arms around his neck like vines, tilting her face up with pleading, glossy eyes, soft and tentative: “Mr… Pei?”
Pei Yanzhou couldn’t help but chuckle at her distant, polite “Mr. Pei.”
So that’s the best she could come up with?
His gaze darkened, fingers pressing lightly on her chin: “Mr. Pei? Very good.”
Shu Hua noticed a faint smile twitch at the corners of his lips and thought she had cleverly gotten away with it.
But the next second, her lips were suddenly sealed!
“Mmph…!”
He claimed her mouth with forceful intensity, as if trying to devour her. His hot, insistent tongue parted her unprepared teeth, delving deeply, tangling with her small tongue, the pressure so strong her tongue ached at the root.
Shu Hua felt dizzy from the aggressive kiss, barely managing to push him slightly away to catch a breath.
Her cheeks burned, eyes shimmering with a hint of flustered grievance, like a little rabbit who had just been bullied.
Pei Yanzhou, however, seemed intoxicated, savoring the taste, his tongue flicking to lick the residue of her warm, glistening moisture, movements dripping with raw allure.
“Called wrong, must be punished,” he murmured hoarsely, eyes burning as they locked onto her glistening red lips. “Now… do you know what you should call me?”
Her head buzzed from the kiss. Instinctively, she tried: “H-husband?”
She thought she’d gotten it right, but his gaze darkened further, seemingly unsatisfied, leaning down to claim her lips again.
Shu Hua, genuinely scared, lips numb and sore, quickly turned her head to dodge, blurting out different names in desperation: “Brother?”
“Pei Gege?”
“Pei Husband? Darling? Baby?”
She rattled off every intimate name she could think of.
Pei Yanzhou watched her flustered, frantic attempts, his desire curiously amused.
He buried his head into her chest, rising and falling with her rapid breaths, laughing low and deep, his heated breath teasing her most sensitive spots through the thin silk of her blouse.
A shiver of delight escaped her lips.
“I’m sorry… don’t…”