Chapter 312: Chapter 322: Throwing Mortimer Quincy by the Trash Can

Caught in the act, Mortimer Quincy wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. "The massage is more effective up close."

Holly Winslow: "..."

’Hmph. He sounds so prim and proper, but everything he does is so shameless.’

She irritably slapped his hand away. "Says who?"

"Master Quincy," Mortimer Quincy shamelessly dubbed himself.

Holly Winslow: "..."

She felt his hand reach the clasp of her bra. A moment later, it came undone. She: "..."

She quickly scooted away from him. "Forget the massage. I’m afraid I won’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow."

His wife knew exactly what he was implying. Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow, then began to undress, preparing for some "exercise."

Holly Winslow: "..."

In the end, she couldn’t escape their two-person exercise.

Thanks to that "massage" from Mortimer Quincy, Holly Winslow’s back was successfully "broken." The next day in class, her lower back ached in waves, and she kept kneading it from time to time.

The dean of students beside her glanced at her several times. When their eyes met by chance, it felt as though everything was understood without a word.

When class ended, the dean told her to get some rest. She: "..."

She now held a "grudge" against Quincy the Beast.

At noon, when Mortimer Quincy called and his wife didn’t pick up, he was self-aware enough to pinpoint his mistake. He’d probably gone overboard last night.

He was just about to go inside to find his darling wife when she came out holding a book, looking "furious." She then "fiercely" declared, "I want barbecue. The five-star kind."

’That fiercely cute look of hers is so damn adorable.’

Mortimer Quincy’s eyes curved in a smile. He reached out to take her book, then took her small hand in his large one. "We can eat anything you want, as long as my wife enjoys it."

Seeing that he understood, Holly Winslow’s "anger" subsided. She held up a finger, pushing her luck a little by adding one more thing. "And a pint of ice cream."

’It was April, and the weather was mild. For some reason, she was craving ice cream.’

Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow, not indulging her in the slightest. "Does my wife want a lecture? Or some ’domestic abuse’?"

Holly Winslow, who had pushed her luck: "..."

She pouted and tried to bargain, "Just one bite. A tiny one."

"Not even a tiny bite. Unless we heat it up." A little scheme formed in Mortimer Quincy’s mind as his eyes curved upward.

’Heated?’

Holly Winslow: "..."

’Heat up ice cream?’

’Only this guy could come up with something so ridiculous.’

’Has studying turned his brain to mush?’

She bared her teeth, challenging him. "Fine, you heat it up for me. If you can’t, I’ll punch you." She brandished a small fist.

"Okay."

Mortimer Quincy indulged her, leading her to a nearby convenience store where he bought her favorite ice cream bar. Then, as she watched, he took a huge bite. He noticed his wife’s mouth had opened wide right along with his.

He nearly burst out laughing.

Holly Winslow still didn’t understand what he was doing. She huffed, "You’re eating it yourself!"

The next moment, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. To her shock and astonishment, a wave of strawberry-flavored "warm ice cream" flooded her mouth.

She: "..."

’Damn that Mortimer Quincy.’

’If I’d known this was his idea of ’heating it up,’ I never would have said that.’

Her face flushed red. She shoved him away and fled the scene as if escaping a famine.

Mortimer Quincy followed with long strides, deliberately teasing her. "Still want to eat some?"

"Eat you, my foot, Quincy the Puppy! Get lost, get lost, get lost!" Holly Winslow shot him a glare. ’At this moment, I don’t want a husband anymore.’ She glanced around and spotted a nearby trash can.

’Throw him away.’

She "hmphed," then dragged Mortimer Quincy over to the trash can. Once he was standing beside it, she ordered, "Quincy the Puppy, don’t move. You can just cool off here."

Mortimer Quincy glanced at the trash can. "..."

A second later, he broke into a series of low chuckles. Grabbing Holly Winslow’s hand as she tried to walk away, he wheedled, "Honey, won’t you pick me back up?"

’This piece of "trash" is actually quite handsome.’

Holly Winslow found she was a bit reluctant to throw him away. She lifted her chin in "disdain." "No. If I take you home, you won’t even do any work."

Mortimer Quincy shrugged innocently, his attitude impeccable. "I work hard every night."

He paused before adding, "I’ve just been a little lazy recently. I promise I’ll make up for it."

As his wife, Holly Winslow knew exactly what he planned to "make up for."

She gave him a light kick and pointed at him. "Don’t move! You just stay here in the cold. Whoever wants you can have you. I don’t want you anymore." As she spoke, she glanced at the ice cream bar in his hand.

Her eyes shifted. She ducked her head, planning to snatch a bite and make a run for it, but a large hand immediately held her head in place. She: "..."

’The downside of being married for so many years... he can predict my every move.’

Mortimer Quincy casually tossed the ice cream bar into the trash can. He looked at his wife and said, "I taste better than ice cream. Eat me instead."

Holly Winslow: "..."

’What the hell kind of cringey pickup line was that?’

She bared her teeth "fiercely." "You think you taste better than a three-fifty ice cream bar?"

"I don’t know about tasting good, but I know I can ’perform’," Mortimer Quincy’s lines grew increasingly brazen.

Holly Winslow was choked speechless. She decided it was time for some domestic education, putting on an air of wifely authority as she lectured him, "You’ve got too much money, don’t you? We’re about to be so poor we can’t even put food on the table, and you’re just throwing away a three-fifty ice cream bar? Are you the son of some billionaire?"

She paused, trying to recall lines from a TV drama. "Why do I ’scrimp and save’ every day? It’s for this family! To give this family a better life!"

"You buy a three-fifty ice cream bar on a whim, while I have to think long and hard before buying even a single bottle of water!" As she said this, she pretended to start crying.

Holly Winslow was telling a bold-faced lie. She didn’t scrimp and save in the slightest. At most, she had bought one or two fewer handbags than she wanted.

Getting an earful from his wife only amused Mortimer Quincy. The more he looked at her, the more adorable he found her.

’So adorable, I want to have a baby with her right now.’ 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

If Holly Winslow knew what he was thinking, she would have definitely rolled her eyes at him.

A nearby cleaning lady had been watching their "argument." Hearing this part, she felt the handsome young man was indeed in the wrong. ’Sigh,’ she thought, ’handsome young men these days are so unreliable.’

She couldn’t help but chime in, "A relationship takes two people to manage. Young man, you should be more frugal. Your girlfriend..."

Before she could finish, the tall, handsome young man before her corrected, "She’s my wife."

The lady paused for a second. "Oh, your wife! Well, if you’re married, you have even more reason to be frugal. Your wife is scrimping and saving for the good of your family."

Holly Winslow felt a pang of guilt. If anyone was frugal, it was Mortimer Quincy, not her. Still, seeing the flirtatious Mortimer get "scolded," she shook her head smugly.

Having been "scolded," Mortimer Quincy promised, "Honey, I won’t do it again. I’ll definitely scrimp and save to earn money for our baby’s formula."

"I’ll be sure to work hard." At making a baby.

Holly Winslow: "..."

’Somehow, she felt like that scoundrel hadn’t finished his sentence.’

After lunch, they still had an hour left for a midday nap, so the two returned to their hotel.

Holly Winslow sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned to Mortimer Quincy. When he leaned down, she unapologetically pinched his cheek. "Quincy the Puppy, you owed me that."

After letting her get her pinch in, Mortimer Quincy grabbed her waist with both hands and pulled her onto his lap. "You’ve had your pinch," he said roguishly. "Now it’s time for some kisses."