Office Romance

The first time I stayed over at my boyfriend’s place, his ex-girlfriend suddenly burst into the bedroom in the middle of the night.

I could clearly feel his body stiffen. The room fell into a dead silence.

“Song Yuan,” she choked out, her voice so hoarse it was barely recognizable.

But he acted as if nothing was happening, pinning my wrist down and nonchalantly continuing to kiss me.

My husband is wonderful to me.

He is incredibly considerate and gentle in bed, too.

After several failed attempts to actually make him angry, I finally resorted to posting a plea for help online: [How can I get my husband to be a bit more aggressive?]

[Sweet talk is all well and good, but I really want to try dirty talk.]

[Angry sex? Never tried that either.]

There were plenty of helpful netizens, but unfortunately, their suggestions were underwhelming.

That was until the day I came home drunk after a class reunion.

The living room was shrouded in darkness.

In the fragmented Moonlight, my husband did something rare-he called me by my full name. “Lin Sui, come here and kneel.”

My boyfriend was acting strange while we were getting intimate.

I was wearing the lace lingerie he’d been looking forward to for so long, yet he wouldn’t even touch me.

The lights were off as I leaned in and breathed into his ear, “I have a surprise for you. Do you like it?”

His breathing became ragged.

I felt a surge of joy, thinking it was finally working.

I hooked my arms around his neck and kissed him even more fervently.

But just then, my boyfriend’s voice suddenly drifted in from outside the door.

“The lights are all on, so why is no one here?”

I froze instantly, my blood rushing to my head.

If Jiang Chen was outside, then who was the man I was holding right now?

I picked up a beautiful black snake.

I often held it in my palm, idly playing with it.

Its tail would coil around my arm, the cool sensation so pleasing I could hardly bear to let go.

Later, in the depths of night, that same cool tail wrapped around my waist, my stomach, and my thighs, bringing an entirely different kind of sensation.

Back when I was at my most innocent, I wanted the person I had a crush on to remember me.

So I kept deliberately controlling my scores, making him come in second in our grade for three whole years.

He got desperate and asked me out, trying to throw me off my game.

I agreed with a smile-then turned around and dumped him before he could dump me.

The good news: he really did never forget me for the rest of his life.

The bad news?

Years later, when I applied for a job, he was the interviewer.

He tossed my résumé aside without a second thought.

“This one won’t do. Next.”

At one o’clock in the morning, I counted the Eleventh Step on the western staircase of my office building.

Resting on that single step was a white sneaker, its laces tied into the same blue dead knot my missing best friend always used.

Five years ago, a woman had died in this building.

Now, the security guard who holds the elevator for me every day looked up and flashed a smile.

“Miss Tang, you shouldn’t go around counting stairs.”