Chapter 1799

Andrew easily caught Chantelle’s hand mid-strike. Then, he stepped forward sharply, pinning her against the wall in one smooth move.

“You—” she growled, the spark in her eyes flaring with real anger. She lifted her knee, aiming a kick at him.

However, Andrew was faster. His leg slipped between hers, firm and unyielding, stopping her in place.

Chantelle’s breath caught. She could feel the pressure of his muscular thigh locking her in place, and her heartbeat pounded wildly.

How could this jerk be so damn forceful?

They were face to face, so close their noses nearly brushed.

“Don’t test my patience. You lost a bet. Now honor it. Don’t make me force your hand,” Andrew whispered in her ear.

Chantelle felt a rush of heat that made her squirm, not from fear, but from something far more confusing.

“You’re hurting my hand, you brute! Let go, Andrew. That’s an order!” she snapped, though her voice lacked the edge it needed. Andrew did not budge. He swept her into his arms without warning and carried her up to the third floor. With a casual kick, he shut the bedroom door behind them.

Then, he dropped her on the bed. Her body bounced once, twice, as she scrambled upright. Her mouth opened, ready to yell. However, something soft landed on her face. She pulled it off, glanced down, and her entire face went red.

It was a pair of black tights.

She held the sheer fabric in her hand, immediately sensing how thin it was.

“Put it on, or I’ll help you,” Andrew said as he leaned against the frame, blocking the only exit.

Chantelle’s ears burned. “Y-You had this prepared in advance? You really thought this through, huh?”

Andrew grinned. “Of course. Chantelle, remember what you told me last time? You said you liked it when I was a little rough. Well, here I am being rough. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Chantelle opened her mouth to deny it, but he cut her off first.

“Doesn’t matter if you didn’t mean it. I like it, and that’s enough.”

She wanted to strangle him. There was no way out, and she could not make a scene. If Francesca or the others came running in, she would never live it down.

She puffed her cheeks and demanded, “Fine! I’ll change. Happy now, you shameless pervert? But turn around. You’re not watching.”

Andrew shook his head and replied casually, “You’re putting it on for me. Why would I turn around? Hurry up and change into the tights. I’ll give you a full review after.”

Chantelle silently cursed him for being a disgusting pervert. Then, she yanked off her work clothes.

She had an impressive figure, but did not know how to dress up. She was always in her work clothes. Although uniforms also have their own charm, Andrew was a little bored with them after seeing her in the same thing for a long time.

Chantelle’s long legs flashed first, pale and smooth. Then, she started pulling the black tights up her thighs. To her surprise, they hugged her skin like a second layer–cool, silky, and oddly comfortable.

Her usual elegance turned into something undeniably seductive.

Andrew caught her expression and smirked. “Ms. Garcia, you need to broaden your horizons a little. Next time, stop working yourself into the ground and learn what sexy really means.”