After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 142: Exquisitely Tempting

Moira Sloan truly had the potential to be a heartbreaker.

The way she said "probably" sounded like she was just playing around, completely unreliable.

Leo Lawson smiled. He knew not to press the issue and didn’t reply.

After one drink, Moira felt a little dizzy.

She’d ordered a high-proof drink herself, so she had no one else to blame. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Before she made a drunken fool of herself, she paid her tab and left.

As Moira left the tavern and was about to walk to the roadside to hail a cab, she got a call from Connor Quinn.

Hearing her phone ring, she pulled it from her bag. Her delicate brows furrowed slightly when she saw ’Connor Quinn’ on the screen. She answered, "Mm?"

Connor Quinn asked in a deep voice, "Where are you?"

Moira answered languidly, "Shopping."

Connor said, "It’s late. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up."

Moira’s red lips curled, and her voice turned cold in an instant. "Connor Quinn..."

Before Moira could finish, Connor cut her off in a placid tone, "Let’s talk in person."

Moira, "..."

In the end, Moira still sent her location to Connor Quinn.

That was one of the perks of a small county town. No matter where you were, even if you were on opposite sides of town, it would never take more than ten minutes or so to get anywhere.

When Connor Quinn arrived, Moira checked the time. It had taken him eight minutes.

Before he could even get out, she strode over in her high heels, opened the passenger door, and slid into the seat.

Noticing her sour expression, Connor leaned over to buckle her seatbelt and, while he was at it, tucked a roasted sweet potato into her arms.

The sweet potato was steaming hot—not something you’d typically find this time of year.

Moira looked down at him, her shimmering eyes beautiful, yet cold and unfeeling.

Connor kept his eyes down on the seatbelt, avoiding her gaze. In a low voice, he said, "I was wrong."

Moira raised an eyebrow.

Connor continued, "You don’t have to like me."

Moira pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

That afternoon, the two of them had parted on bad terms.

They hadn’t fought or argued, but the atmosphere had clearly become tense.

Now, hearing Connor’s words, Moira’s expression softened slightly.

After fastening the seatbelt, Connor looked up at her. Their eyes met. As if rewarding him after a punishment, Moira proudly lifted her chin and brought her lush, red lips close to his.

Connor leaned in, and the moment their lips touched, Moira bit down hard on his. "Don’t you dare try to guilt-trip me again."

Connor didn’t pull back despite the pain, only rasped, "Okay."

Her anger vented, Moira’s rage subsided, and she became docile. In the moments that followed, she licked the spot on Connor’s lip where she had bitten him and said coaxingly, "I’ve been drinking. I’ll need some sobriety soup tonight."

Connor pulled her into his arms, deepening the kiss. "Alright."

On the way back, Moira drowsily fell asleep in the passenger seat.

That cocktail was stronger than she’d thought. As the alcohol’s delayed effects hit, she felt completely groggy.

She hugged the steaming sweet potato in her arms. It wasn’t scalding anymore, just the right temperature to keep her warm.

When the car reached their apartment complex, Connor got out and carried the half-asleep Moira out of the car.

Suddenly finding herself lifted into the air, Moira wasn’t startled at all. Instead, she naturally wrapped her arms around Connor’s neck.

Once they were home, Connor set her down. Only then did she mumble clingily, "I don’t want sobriety soup anymore. I’m sleepy."

"Mm," Connor replied.

Moira was groggy, but not completely drunk. Her eyelids fluttered, then suddenly opened again. She pouted, "But I haven’t taken off my makeup."

As she spoke, her fingertips slipped under the hem of Connor’s shirt to trace the firm muscles of his abdomen. She said softly, "Boss Quinn, could you help me take off my makeup?"

Connor’s large hand brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. "I’ll go get what you need."

Moira replied obediently, "Okay."

Connor left and came back with cotton pads and a warm, damp towel.

Moira closed her eyes, enjoying Boss Quinn’s makeup removal service.

Once her makeup was off and her face wiped clean with the warm towel, Moira’s eyelids trembled. She whispered, "Connor, don’t invest too much into me. Just think of this as us playing around. Don’t take it too seriously..."

After Moira finished speaking, Connor fell silent.

She waited for a long time without hearing a response. When she opened her eyes, she met his gaze, which was as deep and dark as an ink pool.

Connor asked, "Moira, you keep telling me these things. Are you trying to warn me, or are you trying to convince yourself?"