She Flash-Married To His Rival by Harber Venus

Just as Moira was at a loss, suddenly a light bulb went off in her head. "I got it!"

"Really?"

For some reason, every time Barclay said those words, Moira felt like he didn't believe her.

Now, upon hearing it again, she reflexively felt embarrassed and guilty. "Yes, really."

"Oh." He responded and let go of the hand that had been resting on her back, though his left hand on her waist remained.

Moira could feel him gently touching her spine, each touch so light, and it felt like he barely touched her at all.

"You seemed to like it when I touched you the last two times you got drunk."

"I don't remember."

"Shall I help you remember?"

Moira was dumbfounded upon hearing this.

She had no idea how to respond!

What should she say?

"I'm kidding."

Just as she was at a loss, Barclay suddenly chuckled lightly and then let go of her.

Relieved, Moira let out a silent sigh.

Barclay had leaned back, lost in thought, his gaze fixed ahead.

Moira didn't dare to stay by his side any longer. She propped herself up on the floor, intending to leave, but at that moment, Barclay beside her suddenly turned his head and looked at her. "You seem to enjoy kissing me, don't you?"

"No, it's not like that, Mr. Covington. Let me explain!"

But Barclay didn't even bother to listen to her explanation. Once again, he reached out and pulled her into his arms with a forceful tug.

Moira sensed that something was off with Barclay, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Well, isn't that a coincidence? I quite like kissing you too."

Before the deep voice had even finished, Moira felt a warmth on her lips.

She widened her eyes in disbelief as Barclay leaned in to kiss her.

How did things escalate to this point?

But before she could make sense of it, Moira realized that this kiss was different from the playful ones when she was drunk.

Barclay was actually holding onto her lips, not planning to pull away anytime soon.

Moira realized his intention and instinctively began, "Mr. Covington, I..."

But her words only provided Barclay with an opportunity to deepen the kiss.

In an instant, she was like a fish in boiling water, everywhere she swam was scorching hot.

When he finally released her, her mind was still blank.

She sat there in a daze, unable to believe she had just shared a passionate kiss with Barclay.

As her ragged breaths slowly

calmed down, Moira's thoughts

began to return. At that moment,

she finally realized what was off with

Barclay!

It wasn't her who was drunk. It was Barclay!

Moira covered her rapidly beating chest and looked up at Barclay, whose brows were furrowed, unmoving.

Barclay remained still.

Moira studied him for about half a minute before tentatively reaching out to touch him. "Mr. Covington, are you drunk?"

Barclay slowly lifted his head at her

words, his gaze meeting hers.

a couple of seconds, he finally

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spoke, "Aren't you the one who's

Moira's face, which had just cooled down, flushed again. "I think maybe we both might be."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes."

A sober Barclay wouldn't have kissed her in the first place!

Just like that night when she, emboldened by some supposed aphrodisiac, tried to push her luck, he had only looked at her solemnly, asking her not to seduce him.

If he were truly devious, Barclay would have had plenty of opportunities to take advantage long before today.

This realization eased Moira's nerves slightly.

But for some reason, she felt a twinge of disappointment.

'Oh, Moira, you're in real trouble!' She roared inwardly.