For individuals like Melissa, getting close to Jarrod was an impossibility. Yet, every woman had, at some point, envisioned herself as Cinderella, always hoping for a prince to come to their rescue.
Melissa poured another glass of wine and extended it to Jarrod.
That time, Jarrod didn’t take the glass but raised his gaze.
Jarrod locked his eyes onto Melissa’s face. As if enchanted, he lowered his head and downed the wine directly from the glass held in her hand.
Melissa turned away, preparing to refill the wine.
A sharp shatter of broken glass broke the silence.
Jarrod forcefully wrested the glass from her grasp. Then, he swiftly reached out, gripping her throat, and pressed her down onto the sofa.
The abruptness of the action left Melissa somewhat frightened as she stared at Jarrod with wide-open eyes.
Jarrod’s cold countenance seemed to undergo a sudden transformation.
In a husky whisper, he murmured into Melissa’s ear, “Nicole… Nicole…”
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He uttered nothing else, merely calling Nicole’s name. He continued to repeat Nicole’s name, his voice rough and seductive.
Jarrod was slightly inebriated at that moment, and the deep affection in his eyes proved nearly irresistible.
Even though Jarrod called out another woman’s name, the affection enveloped Melissa like a net descending from the heavens, trapping her. She was willing to be taken as another woman.
Unmindful of the peril that loomed within Jarrod, Melissa boldly extended her hand, encircling her arms around his neck, and slowly leaned in, her scarlet lips approaching.
The gap between their lips narrowed to a mere finger’s width. Close enough to feel each other’s breath.
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Melissa’s fragrance caused Jarrod to furrow his brow. The scent was strange and vulgar, unlike Nicole’s.
Jarrod promptly pushed Melissa away and turned toward the sofa, massaging his temples with slender fingers.
Melissa was taken aback but refused to let this precious opportunity slip through her fingers. If Jarrod were to engage in intimacy with her, she could escape from the company of those odorous, portly elderly men. Perhaps he would even whisk her away.
Summoning her courage, Melissa began to unbutton her shirt, revealing her tender skin. She gradually sank to her knees before Jarrod.
The moment her slender fingers extended, Jarrod’s voice turned frigid.
“Get lost!”
Melissa was left dumbfounded. The sound of shattering glass resonated in her ears.
A shard of glass whizzed past Melissa’s face, crashing into the LCD screen behind her, fragmenting into pieces.
Jarrod wiped his blurred eyes, his voice akin to that of an ice-cold ogre. “Get out!”