Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 216: Chapter 216: If Ivy Sherwood Got Pregnant

A blush exploded across her face, turning her skin pink with shyness.

Quentin Blackwood was talking about... taking off his clothes.

Last time, she’d said she didn’t know how, so Quentin had taught her. And just a moment ago, he had given her another personal demonstration.

His shirt was right in front of her. All she had to do was raise her hand to unbutton it.

"I..."

Quentin’s hand covered hers, his voice husky. "This is the last time I’m teaching you."

The atmosphere was sultry and ambiguous, a perfect portrait of the adult world.

Ivy Sherwood arched her neck like a drowning sprite, her waterfall of hair fanning out across her back. She was impossibly beautiful.

Only Quentin Blackwood had ever seen Ivy Sherwood like this. The thought made his eyes darken, and he seemed to have a boundless supply of energy.

She panted, calling his name. "Quentin... Unc—"

Realizing the address was wrong, Ivy Sherwood stopped herself just in time and switched. "President Blackwood..."

From the very beginning, Quentin hadn’t been pleased with the title "President Blackwood." Plenty of people called him that; he didn’t need Ivy to be one of them.

"You’re not my employee. Don’t call me President Blackwood."

Ivy took the chance to catch her breath. "Then what should I call you?"

"What did you call me before?"

Ivy’s mind struggled to recall. It seemed she had called him that before. She had called him Quentin directly, or President Blackwood.

But more often than not, she had called him "Uncle."

"Uncle?" Ivy tested the word, then immediately added, "But I’ve already broken off my engagement with Silas Blackwood. You’re not my uncle anymore!"

Her voice was truly soft, both delicate and alluring, making it hard for Quentin to control himself.

Especially mentioning that jinx Silas Blackwood at a time like this. Even though the engagement was off, their relationship still seemed to carry a sense of the forbidden.

"Just because I’m not doesn’t mean you can’t call me that. Or... I wouldn’t mind if you called me something else."

"Something else? Like what?" An idea flashed through Ivy’s mind.

Her half-lidded eyes opened, meeting Quentin’s gaze. She was still on top of him, and she reached out to wrap her arms around his neck.

His alluring lips were flushed, not the red of lipstick, but the pure, faint crimson left behind after being kissed and bitten.

Her lips parted, her eyes bewitching.

"The father of my child? Husband?"

She had only said it tentatively, but the words had barely left her lips when Quentin gripped the back of her head, and his fiery mouth descended, sealing hers completely.

"Mmph... Quentin..."

This time, Ivy was truly drowning. It was as if she’d flipped a switch in Quentin. He was like a wind-up toy, unable to stop.

In the end, Ivy lost consciousness completely, limp in Quentin’s arms.

After cleaning Ivy up, Quentin carried her to the bed.

He didn’t know what had come over him. He’d been as impulsive and wild as a reckless young man.

Especially when Ivy had called him "the father of my child" and said the word "husband." A thought suddenly crossed his mind: what if Ivy really got pregnant?

His hand gently caressed Ivy’s lower abdomen. It was flat, without a hint of excess flesh.

There was no little life inside; he couldn’t feel anything.

’If Ivy really were pregnant, then of course she would have the baby.’

Quentin had never been an irresponsible person. Before, he would never have let this kind of situation happen. But for some reason, his thinking seemed to have changed a lot.

’If he had a child with Ivy, if he was the one Ivy was marrying...’

...

「The next day」

When Ivy struggled to get up, the bed was already empty.

Ivy laboriously lifted her wrist, picked up the phone beside her, and glanced at the time. It was almost nine o’clock.

’Quentin’s so busy, he’s probably already at the office.’

She lazed in bed, not wanting to get up. Her bones felt like they were about to shatter; she didn’t want to move at all.

’Just a little longer, then I’ll get up and go home.’

Ivy wrapped herself in the blanket like a caterpillar and rolled around on the bed, trying to push everything from last night out of her mind.

Just then, the bathroom door opened, and Quentin walked out, a single bath towel wrapped around his lower body.

He had just finished showering. Water dripped from the ends of his hair, beads of it clinging to his lean muscles. On his back were several distinct red scratches—the marks Ivy had left last night.

"You... you didn’t go to the office?" Ivy was very surprised to see Quentin.

Quentin said calmly, "It’s the weekend."

He often worked overtime, but today he wanted to give himself a day off.

Ivy shifted, pushing herself up. "Well, I should be getting back."

"It’s the weekend, a rare chance to relax. Let me know what you want to eat, and I’ll have the staff make it for lunch."

’Is Quentin asking me to stay for lunch?’

"I’m not a picky eater."

Ivy ended up having lunch at Norhaven. In the afternoon, she and Quentin were in the study together.

Quentin worked at his computer while Ivy read a book nearby.

Although Quentin hadn’t been living in Norhaven for long, the estate was perfectly appointed.

The study was huge, with books of every genre. It was almost a small library.

Ivy was engrossed in her reading and didn’t notice Quentin take a call. It was from Julian Grant, who said they hadn’t gotten together in a while and invited him out for dinner and drinks that evening.

"Not going," Quentin refused bluntly.

"Don’t be so quick to refuse. What if I invite Ivy, too? Didn’t she successfully break off her engagement? It’s the perfect chance to congratulate her and celebrate."

Quentin: "..."

Julian quickly hung up. A few seconds later, Ivy’s phone rang.

She saw Julian Grant’s name and answered.

Speaking of which, Mr. Grant had helped her out a great deal. Without that online campaign, things wouldn’t have gone so smoothly for her.

"Mr. Grant."

"Ivy! Let’s get dinner and drinks tonight! Congratulations on breaking off your engagement."

Ivy agreed. "Okay, my treat."

"How could we let you treat? Someone will definitely foot the bill. In our circle, you have to get in line just to pay. Since you’ve agreed, I’ll go find Quent—"

Before Julian could finish, a different voice came through the phone.

"She’s not going."

"Holy shit!" Julian almost dropped his phone. "So you two are together right now? Why didn’t you say so earlier?"

He knew Quentin and Ivy’s relationship wasn’t ordinary, but for them to be together all the time... weren’t they a little too clingy?

’No wonder Quentin was so invested in all that online drama about Ivy. He must’ve been desperate for her to break off the engagement so he could make his move!’

"Ivy already agreed to meet up tonight. Are you coming or not?"

Quentin said, "She has a cold. She can’t drink."

"My cold is better, I can drink. It’s settled then. We’ll have dinner tonight. If Quentin doesn’t want to go, we’ll just go without him." Ivy thought that since Julian Grant had helped her so much, she naturally had to treat him to a meal.

Unrestrained laughter erupted from the other end of the line. "Hahaha, fine! We’ll ignore him. That old man can’t keep up with the times. Us young folk won’t play with him!"

Quentin, standing to the side: "..."