The cold winter night bit into their skin, yet only Lu Ziyang's body and the glowing cigarette butt pinched between Yaxi's fingers gave off any warmth.
The two stood at the entrance of "Qing Yu Internet Cafe." Yaxi flung off her school uniform jacket with reckless abandon, the smoke curling from her mouth in wispy, ink-white swirls.
She'd said she'd go inside with him once she finished this cigarette, her eyes sparkling at the edges, as if hinting they were about to run off together.
But ten minutes had dragged by, and she was still there, lazily puffing away, completely ignoring Lu Ziyang.
He paced back and forth, every second stretching into an agonizing eternity.
Maybe it was the doctor's visit that had rattled her.
She propped her elbow on her hand, her face shadowed with something unreadable.
Lu Ziyang watched her, his heart twisting with pity, convinced she was just putting on a brave front.
That ache didn't last long, though—it was chased away by the sight of her lips, dark and red, opening and closing with each breath.
He couldn't help but imagine kissing them, making them flush redder, wetter, numb with sensation until she couldn't speak, only whimper as he sucked on her tongue.
The thought lifted his spirits a little.
He slouched there, hands shoved in his pockets, trying to play it cool.
Yaxi, meanwhile, was lost in her own head, mulling over the three pieces of advice Zhou Tao had given her about desire:
1. Try seeing Chen Ling as a friend, not a crush. If he still felt like the perfect companion, then maybe take a step toward something more intimate.
2. Swap out the word "jealousy" in her mind for "appreciation." It was her knack for spotting others' strengths that made her feel lacking—she'd just mistaken it for envy.
3. Stop bottling up her desires and kinks. Follow her heart and experiment with the sexual fantasies she craved.
4. Date other guys, mingle more, and stop putting emotions—or people—on a pedestal.
If she wanted, she could test out numbers 3 and 4 right now: dive into her favorite bedroom games with someone else.
Her gaze flicked to Lu Ziyang's crotch, and a laugh bubbled up. "Already hard?"
Lu Ziyang snatched her jacket to cover himself, his nose and cheeks flushing pink. "I'm young and full of fire—of course I'm raring to go. You little girl wouldn't get it."
Chen Ling was all refined elegance, a pretty boy through and through, while Lu Ziyang was the bright, outdoorsy type. One look at his face screamed jock.
Just then, a long-buried memory flickered through Yaxi's mind: a packed classroom, everyone shoving forward, clamoring to watch a video of Lu Ziyang at a junior high swim meet.
The boy had been shirtless, his upper body thick with muscle—shoulders, neck, and arms bulging with raw power.
His tanned skin gleamed, healthy and magnetic, water droplets trailing down his frame, soaking into the clingy swim trunks plastered to his ass.
The wet fabric traced an outline that was pure, shameless sex.
Even back then, it had made her ache between her legs.
In love, she chased purity, something flawless and exalted.
But could it be she also hungered to be seen, adored, chased, and fucked by different men? Was that her real desire? She'd only know if she explored it.
Yaxi took a final drag, licked her lips, and stubbed out the cigarette.
Then she grabbed his right pinky, tilted her head up, and asked with dead seriousness, "Lu Ziyang, black stockings or white?"
…
Yaxi was Yaxi—more irresistible than anyone he'd ever met.
He—he—he had no defense against her, none at all…
Lu Ziyang summoned some guts, his face burning red as he bellowed, "Doesn't matter what kind—as long as they're on you, they're damn good stockings!"
The punks smoking on their scooters nearby erupted into laughter, and Yaxi joined in.
Lu Ziyang wrapped her hand in his, turned her face toward him, and yanked her inside, tossing a cocky shout back at the punks: "Scram! Stop eyeing my girl. Don't fucking envy me!"
Five minutes later, his so-called "girl" had him hooked.
She dragged him into a cramped, dimly lit couple's booth, peeled off his jacket, and shoved him down onto the tatami mat.
Lu Ziyang fumbled for the remote with one hand, cranking the AC, then flipped her under him in one rough move.
He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent like a man starved.
He was past controlling himself—his dick had been rock-hard for twenty minutes, and even the freezing cold outside hadn't tamed it.
But he had to play by her rules, so he settled for panting and licking at her gorgeous neck and collarbone, blowing hot breaths across her skin as he went.
She grinned up at him, eyes glinting with lust, her slim arms half-pushing, half-pulling at his neck.
His breathing turned ragged, and he sank his teeth into her collarbone.
The treats tonight were too much—he was drunk on it, head spinning, wondering if maybe, just maybe, he could finally give himself to her.
A knock at the door cut through. "Madam, sir, the pants you ordered are here."
"Leave 'em at the door!" Lu Ziyang barked. "Don't fucking bother me."
Yaxi smirked, amused.
Her knee slid up, rubbing against his bulge as she nibbled his ear. "If you don't grab them quick, how am I supposed to wear them for you?"
"You're really…" Lu Ziyang didn't know how to curse her out properly. "A goddamn tease."
He hooked an arm under her legs, scooping her up and setting her down on the little single sofa tucked inside.
He swung the door open, snatched the package, slammed it shut, and ripped the wrapping apart in one fluid motion.
Pants? Hardly. The thing weighed less than a piece of candy. Yaxi had ordered a white lace bodystocking without so much as blinking.
Lu Ziyang stared at it, baffled. How the hell did this thing work? Was he supposed to help her into it… or… heh.
He turned back—and froze.
Yaxi had already stripped down to a tiny camisole, flesh-toned and barely clinging to her body.