Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 141: Chapter 141: Even If I Have a Girlfriend, It’s Not up to You to Say It’s Over

"Mmph..." Ivy Sherwood struggled, jabbing her elbow back and seeming to catch the man in the stomach.

The man grunted. "It’s me."

Ivy Sherwood’s eyes blinked. "Mmm-mmph..."

She seemed to be trying to say something, and only then did the man release his hand.

"Quentin Blackwood?" Ivy Sherwood turned her head and saw the man’s face. "This is the women’s locker room! You pervert!"

"I checked. There’s no one else in here."

He opened his palm, revealing a layer of powder, and sneered, "You wear a lot of makeup."

Ivy Sherwood was hot. She had just run two laps, and her face was covered in sweat. On top of that, with Quentin Blackwood’s hand clamped so tightly over her mouth, even transfer-proof makeup would have rubbed off.

Ivy Sherwood touched her face and, sure enough, her hand came away with dark foundation on it. ’I’ll touch up my makeup when I get out.’ Ivy always carried her cosmetics with her.

"I’m not naturally pretty, so of course I need to use more makeup to cover it up."

"What about you? What are you doing here instead of keeping your girlfriend company?"

It had been several days since she had last seen Quentin Blackwood.

The locker room stall wasn’t large, and Quentin Blackwood was tall and broad-shouldered. Squeezed together in the cramped space, Ivy Sherwood felt like the air itself was thinning.

With Quentin standing there, Ivy was left with only a tiny bit of space. The slightest movement would bring her into contact with his body.

It was as if she were completely encircled in his arms. The familiar scent of cedarwood from him filled her nostrils, but it was mixed with the scent of another woman.

Ivy Sherwood did not like that scent.

But right now, there was nowhere for her to run, nowhere to hide.

The corner of Quentin Blackwood’s mouth lifted. "Why do I get the feeling your tone is a little sour?"

"You’re hearing things. I just think that since you have a girlfriend, you shouldn’t be here with me. And last time, you actually lied and told me you didn’t have a fiancée!"

Although not having a fiancée didn’t mean he didn’t have a girlfriend, if that Joy Sheridan and Quentin Blackwood really were in that kind of relationship, Ivy Sherwood still felt angry, like she had been deceived.

"Ivy Sherwood, do you care that much about whether I have a girlfriend?"

Ivy Sherwood’s heart felt like it had been struck by something. ’Do I care?’

She didn’t know.

It was just that when Joy Sheridan said she was Quentin Blackwood’s girlfriend, her heart had ached a little.

But only a little, because she knew this man would have a girlfriend sooner or later. Even if it wasn’t Joy Sheridan, it would be someone else.

In the end, it wouldn’t be her.

"Don’t be so narcissistic. I don’t care at all. It doesn’t matter to me whether I have feelings for you or whether you have a girlfriend."

Quentin Blackwood’s eyes darkened, a hint of anger in them. "No feelings for me?"

His thin lips barely moved. "Are you sure?"

"I..." Ivy Sherwood turned her face away, her heart feeling like it was about to burst from her chest.

"No feelings, yet your heart is beating so fast? No feelings, yet your face is this red?"

"I’m just hot. Aren’t you hot in such a small space?" Ivy tried to keep her composure. "Is there something you can’t say outside? If President Blackwood has something to discuss with me, why don’t you wait until I’ve changed, and we can talk openly out there."

"Heh." Quentin Blackwood sneered. "Go outside? If I want to kiss you, do I have to do it outside too?"

"You!" Ivy Sherwood’s eyes widened. ’What kind of predatory words are these!’

"I think our relationship should have ended long ago. I hope President Blackwood won’t tease me like this in the future."

"Relationship? Ended?" Quentin Blackwood sounded as if he’d just heard a joke.

He had seen Ivy leave and had gone through the trouble of shaking off Joy Sheridan to come find her, only to hear her talk about ending things?

"I have no relationship with Joy Sheridan. She’s not my girlfriend or my sister. You don’t need to pay her any mind," Quentin Blackwood said.

Ivy Sherwood’s eyes blinked. What did Quentin mean by that? ’Is he... explaining things to me?’

The next second, she heard Quentin Blackwood say, "Never mind that I don’t have a girlfriend. Even if I did, you’re not the one who gets to say it’s over."

Quentin drew closer, his large hand wrapping around her waist and pulling her entire body forward.

Her body was now pressed against his. Quentin tilted his head, his lips close to her ear, and bit down on her crimson earlobe.

Quentin seemed to really enjoy biting her earlobe, but this time was different from the gentle sucking before. He was actually using his teeth.

"Even if you marry Silas Blackwood and become his wife, when I want you, you won’t have the right to refuse!"

"You!" Ivy Sherwood’s face burned with heat. How could Quentin... how could he be so humiliating!

"You’re a pervert!" Ivy Sherwood really couldn’t think of anything worse to call him.

"This is what you call perverted? There are even more perverted things. Want to see?"

"Quentin Blackwood!" Ivy yelled his name in frustration. "I..."

Before she could finish, a voice came from outside. It sounded like someone had come in.

"Ivy, are you in there?" It was Nina Scott’s voice.

This made Ivy Sherwood even more nervous. Nina knew nothing about what was going on between her and Quentin.

Just a moment ago, she’d asked Ivy if she was interested in Quentin. If Nina discovered them in this stall together now, what would she think!

Quentin Blackwood’s lips were against Ivy’s ear. "What’s wrong? Why don’t you raise your voice a little more?"

How could Ivy dare make a sound? Nina was very familiar with her voice and would recognize it instantly.

After calling out twice and hearing nothing, Nina muttered, "Strange. Could she have changed and left already?"

"But why wouldn’t she come find me if she left?" Nina held her own clothes, getting ready to change as well.

But as luck would have it, Nina opened the stall right next to hers. When Ivy heard the door close, she didn’t dare move a muscle.

Quentin sensed her tension. His lips traveled from her earlobe to her neck, planting soft kisses.

"Mmph..." Ivy Sherwood tensed up, her misty eyes wide as she clamped a hand over her own mouth, afraid to make a sound.

But even that tiny sound was heard by Nina in the next stall.

Nina’s movements paused. Next door, Ivy was so nervous her heart was about to leap out of her chest.

Nina listened for a few seconds. Hearing nothing more, she went back to changing her clothes.

Just a door away, Ivy was nearly scared to death. But Quentin didn’t seem to care. He ignored her attempts to push him away, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand from her mouth.

Under Ivy’s gaze, he then leaned down and accurately captured her moist, red lips.

The hand on her waist began to gently caress her.

"Mmph... no..." A sound involuntarily escaped Ivy’s throat.

Her eyes grew even more watery; she was about to be bullied into tears by Quentin.

Even though she was trying her best not to make a sound, small noises still escaped. Besides, she was the only one who didn’t want to be discovered by Nina. Quentin couldn’t care less.

In fact, Quentin deliberately made some noise, letting anyone listen.

Nina kept feeling like there was some noise coming from the stall next to her. She stopped again. There was definitely a sound.

And it sounded a bit... intimate. At that thought, Nina’s face instantly flushed red.

’Could it be... someone is... in the next stall... doing *that*?’