Chapter 4 – Merry Stern (Part 7)

Bryant couldn’t get past three pages before he took his eyes off the book again. He glanced at the bed, but the woman showed no sign of waking. Still sitting in the armchair, he turned his head to check the clock on the nightstand. 3 p.m. It was almost time for the lunch he had ordered. It was well past lunchtime, and he was hungry.

He closed the book he had been sluggishly perusing and got up. He adjusted the waist belt of his loosely tied robe, which seemed about to come undone. Tidying his attire roughly, he slowly approached the bed. The woman was sound asleep. He looked down at her face, buried in the soft bedding. A smile unconsciously appeared on his lips, and he thought of nothing else. Nothing but the satisfaction of having a woman sleeping on his bed, defenseless like a child.

It’s already 3 p.m. To think he had been cooped up in this room for over five hours without stepping out. He was amazed at how time seemed to change speed because of this woman. An irresistible fascination. Being completely captivated. It was an emotion he hadn’t felt for quite some time.

For Bryant, this wasn’t his first experience, of course. Not every time, but it was an emotion he had felt at least once with most of the women he had relationships with in the past. How could one spend the night together without feeling “completely captivated”? Bryant was a man who was very skeptical about the sustainability of relationships but placed considerable importance on their romantic aspect.

So, it wasn’t particularly strange that he had taken off his pants before even having breakfast or that he had spent the entire day in the cabin, pouring all his time, attention, and energy solely into the woman. As mentioned, it was an emotion he hadn’t felt in quite some time, and moreover, today was the first day.

Therefore, Bryant felt no sense of incongruity about the current situation. Using various tricks because he didn’t want to be apart from Evelyn Dale. Not leaving the side of the woman who had fallen asleep from exhaustion, waiting for her to wake up. Thinking she looked lovely as he gazed at her sleeping face. All of this, again, was a perfectly normal process when viewed in light of past experiences.

Being temporarily blinded by fascination. So it’s best to enjoy it as much as possible now. Because such feelings don’t last very long.

Knock, knock. At the sound of a knock from outside, he turned his head. Through the open bedroom door, he could see the entrance door directly. As the door opened, his eyes met those of a man in a black uniform. It was a valet bringing the food trolley.

Bryant put a finger to his lips while looking at him. The man nodded and cautiously wheeled the trolley in, and Bryant walked out of the bedroom. After quietly closing the door, he stood in his indoor clothes, watching the men set up the dining table.

Two servants began setting up the food they brought on the round table in the reception room. Napkins and water glasses. Forks and knives. Orange juice in a transparent glass bottle. The large plate containing the dish was covered with a silver dome, hiding its contents. The servants, who skillfully set up the table for two, finally took out a vase and placed it in the center. A single cream-colored rose in a tall, slender glass vase. With his eyes on the elegant flower, Bryant asked.

“Don’t you have any yellow roses?”

At the unexpected question, the attendant looked perplexed.

“I’m sorry, sir. We have roses in red, white, and pink. If you need yellow flowers, I can bring you freesias or lilies.”

It was a polite and clear explanation. 

I’ll have to order in advance next time. 

Bryant thought as he nodded lightly.

“Take the flower away.”

“Shall we prepare another flower for you?”

“No, that’s fine.”

Without another word, the attendant removed the vase. Bryant watched as the cream-colored rose was quietly wheeled away on the trolley. A gift that doesn’t meet the standards is better not given. He wanted everything within his control to be perfect.

The attendants left, and the cabin door closed. Bryant looked at the round table where the late lunch was set. Cold dew formed on the surface of the glass bottle containing orange juice. The bright orange juice. Swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth, he turned toward the bedroom.

He opened the closed door and went inside. The woman on the bed still showed no sign of movement. 

How long had it been since she fell asleep? Thirty minutes? No, almost an hour? 

Bryant stood by her bedside, estimating the faded time. Hair scattered over the white pillow. Drawn by the glossy brown hair, he reached out his hand. The long hair softly intertwined between his fingers. Chocolate-like hair.

Bending down to place his lips on it was a natural progression. He buried his nose and lips in her hair and inhaled. The fragrant scent of the woman, however, was not entirely satisfying. It felt akin to tasting an unbalanced wine, lacking somewhere. Seeking a more definite sweetness, he moved his lips to her face.

He rubbed his nose against her soft cheek. Pressed his lips against it gently. The smooth skin’s texture was more satisfying than her hair. But he knew a place sweeter than here. Bryant gently caressed the sleeping woman’s lips with his thumb. 

Should I kiss her? Then she’d wake up. 

After a brief consideration, he withdrew his hand.

There are many ways to wake a sleeping woman. Which one to use depends on the result the man desires. For Bryant, the best method now was to gently shake her awake and guide her to the table where the meal was set. It was already past 3 p.m., and he was very hungry, having eaten nothing since breakfast.

Which comes first, appetite or desire? When he was once asked such a question at a social gathering, Bryant had answered, “Certainly the former.” It was an unromantic answer, regrettably, but based on personal experience, he had confidently asserted it, making the men in the smoking room laugh. 

I’ll have to tell them my view has changed when I meet them again.

He reached out and lifted the duvet. The woman’s white shoulder was revealed beneath the duvet.

Saliva pooled in his mouth. His Adam’s apple dipped down and then rose again.

Evelyn was asleep on her side. Her body below the shoulders was still covered, but she was completely n*ked. She had fallen asleep as if fainting right after their last encounter. She didn’t seem to have much stamina. Writers have considerable perseverance, but most have below-average stamina. At least, that’s what Bryant knew.

The thought made him chuckle. Confirming a writer’s stamina in this way. It was amusing and a bit pathetic.

This was the first time he had so thoroughly blurred the line between public and private matters. Engaging in such an intimate relationship with someone so significant in his professional life was unprecedented. In retrospect, it was something he should have avoided at all costs. A publishing house president sleeping with a novelist. But what was done could not be undone, nor did he intend to undo it. Bryant still had no doubt that this relationship would not harm him and would conclude in the most ideal way.

So, future matters can be dealt with when they arise. For now, he was completely captivated by this woman.

Bryant reached out to caress the woman’s shoulder. Her body was so small compared to his hand that it seemed it might break if he gripped it tightly. Evelyn was slender, with very delicate bones. Her wrists and fingers were especially so. He thought it would be nice if those small, delicate hands would touch him, but she had never properly touched him. She hadn’t even caressed his face. 

Did she not want to touch me? Or was she still too shy?

Bryant moved his hand from her shoulder to stroke her face. Her neatly closed eyelashes fluttered slightly. Before she opened her eyes, he leaned down to press his lips against her body. Kissing the hollow of her collarbone, he inhaled. His body reacted immediately to the warm body heat and soft scent. He moved his lips slowly downward.

The woman’s skin was incredibly smooth. White and clean without a single blemish or scar. She was quite sensitive, flinching when touched by hand and swallowing sounds when traced by lips. The more she did so, the more he wanted to provoke her. He wanted to test wickedly how long she could endure.

“Mm…”

Evelyn, waking from sleep, waved her hand. His lips were already brushing her lower abdomen and sweeping over her pelvis. Just a hand’s breadth away was his target. The sweetest place on a woman’s body. Swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth, he completely pulled back the duvet. Her white body was revealed brightly, and without hesitation, he placed his lips on it.

“Ha,”

The startled woman raised her upper body halfway. Twisting her waist and reaching out to push his shoulder, but she must have known it was futile. The woman, who attempted a clumsy resistance, soon gave up. Now, her body tensed in a slightly different way.

“Ah.”

Evelyn only made a suppressed sound through her tightly closed lips. She neither spoke to nor called the man. He knew she didn’t call him because she didn’t know what to call him. Calling him Mr. Clifton seemed too formal given the man’s current demeanor, and calling him Bryant meant she was still in her right mind. He was fine with whatever she chose to call him.

“Aah.”

Even at the peak, Evelyn kept her mouth shut. But soon, she would call him. His name. Pledingly.

Bryant could make that happen.

“Did you sleep well?”

He leisurely moved up to meet her eyes. The woman, looking at the man smiling with wet lips, seemed about to cry. She seemed embarrassed to reveal everything in the bright midday bedroom. 

Still embarrassed. How cute.

Her flushed face was beautiful. Breathing heavily, Evelyn reached out her arms as if to embrace him. Bryant willingly responded, untying the waist belt of his robe. The two n*ked bodies, heated beyond passion, intertwined with each other.

It was fervor hotter than passion.