Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 39: The Busy Street Corner

Feeling the man’s body heat, Claire Shaw’s face turned even redder, and she scoffed lightly, "You’re a pervert!"

But the sound coming from her soft voice had an air of wanting to resist but also accepting.

At this moment, a strange voice rang out, "President Blackwood, shall we go?"

Only then did Claire realize there was another person in the car!

She had been stuffed into Ethan Blackwood’s car.

That meant her embarrassed state had been completely seen by someone. Claire gasped, "Ah!" 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Ethan Blackwood took the opportunity to pull her onto his lap. Claire felt too ashamed to face anyone, burying her head into his chest.

She heard him let out a low laugh from pleasure, causing his broad chest to slightly rise and fall, in rhythm with his laughter.

Ethan Blackwood opened her handbag, throwing the car keys to the driver, Moe.

"Drive this car back."

Moe, freshly appointed, lacked discretion; seasoned veterans would usually play dead in such moments.

Only then did he react and fled the car as if escaping.

After running a few steps, he realized Ethan Blackwood hadn’t told him where the car was parked. The parking lot spanned three levels and could accommodate tens of thousands of cars. Where was he supposed to look?

Moe looked miserable, holding the car keys as he searched for the car.

President Blackwood seemed cold, but he was so cunning!

The car door shut.

The little quail buried in Ethan Blackwood’s embrace finally raised her head.

But after all the fuss, her eyes no longer held sadness; her hair was tousled with a few wisps falling to either side.

Her large dark eyes carried a hint of accusation, "Bastard! You only know how to bully me."

A rare softness coated Ethan Blackwood’s icy face, "I’ll take you home."

Claire Shaw was about to get out of the car, "No need, I can call for a..."

Her hand opening the door was covered by Ethan’s large hand, meeting his sharp eyes and thin lips curled coldly, "Or should I carry you back the way I did just now?"

Claire shut her mouth.

Whether it was the power disparity between men and women, or the difference in their statuses, Ethan Blackwood was far superior to her.

Her acquiescence let the man reach out and gently tousle her soft hair, "Good girl."

The ride was quiet.

Claire didn’t say a word to him.

Ethan played soothing French songs, lowering the window a bit, letting the evening breeze blow in gently, stirring the eerily calm atmosphere.

In the rearview mirror, the young girl had curled herself into a ball, snug against the car door’s edge, her headband undone, and the slightly curled ends of her hair gently falling by her cheeks.

She looked so well-behaved and pitiful.

The car stopped below her apartment building, Claire already wearing her shoes.

Their silent journey ended without either speaking; several times Claire wanted to ask if the matter with Yasmin Yorke was true.

But with what stance should she ask?

Clearly, they were not anything to each other.

Regaining her composure, she walked outside the driver’s seat to thank him, "Mr. Blackwood, thank you for taking me home."

"Just a minor effort." The man’s eyes were faint, speech languid, tone slow, with a hint of ambiguity, strangely making him seem sexy.

Claire silently walked forward a few steps, realizing the man hadn’t left.

Turning around, she saw him light a cigarette, his rolled-up sleeves lazily resting on the car window, his hand’s tendons visible, the scarlet tip of the cigarette flickering.

In the instant Claire looked over, he also lifted his gaze to her.

Their eyes met, and Ethan Blackwood beckoned her with a finger, "Come over."

Confused, Claire quickly stepped forward in her high heels. Through the open car window, she leaned down and softly asked, "Is there something else, Mr. Blackw... mm..."

The man fiercely captured her lips.

Lips and teeth intertwined, the sharp scent of the man lingering around her nose.

His long fingers grasped the back of her head, the man’s rough and forceful kiss deepening.

In the mingling of lips and teeth, there remained the taste of tobacco; it was Claire’s first time tasting it, the spicy bitterness spreading over her tongue.

The intense flavor and fervent kiss made her heart race, even her bones tingling...