Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 245: Chapter 245: My Makeup Was Kissed All Smudgy

Ivy Sherwood saw his move and dodged out of the way.

The man wasn’t annoyed. "What’s the rush?" he said. "Miss Sherwood, why don’t we chat a little longer? Don’t worry about whoever you’re with. I know you’re a perfumer, right? I’ve seen your pictures online, but they really don’t do you justice."

He leaned close to Ivy Sherwood’s ear and whispered, "I’m taking over my family’s company now. I was wondering if you might be interested in a collaboration, Miss Sherwood. There’s no time like the present. How about after we get off the cruise, I treat you to a couple of drinks, just the two of us, so we can have a proper chat?"

As he spoke, his hand reached out to snake around Ivy Sherwood’s waist.

However, before his palm could even touch her, it was forcefully pulled away.

"Who the hell was that?!" the man snapped, turning around, only to meet a pair of ice-cold eyes.

"P-P-P-President Blackwood." He had seen Quentin Blackwood once before, but a big shot like him would never have noticed, let alone recognized, a nobody like him.

After pulling the man away, Quentin Blackwood stepped directly into the spot where he had been standing.

Then, he wrapped a large hand around Ivy Sherwood’s waist, pulling her into his embrace. "I’m curious what you plan to discuss ’privately’ with my date after we disembark."

His tone was filled with warning and menace. The man quickly said, "A misunderstanding, it’s all a misunderstanding! I... I didn’t know she was your woman."

’Who would’ve thought Quentin Blackwood would bring a date? And she looks so... plain. Sure, she’s attractive, but she’s not *that* beautiful.’

"President Blackwood, my foolish son doesn’t know any better. I hope you can find it in your heart to be magnanimous." Just then, the man’s father came over.

He had just stepped aside to chat for a moment and knew his son was talking to Ivy Sherwood. How had he managed to offend President Blackwood in the span of a few sentences?

"Out!" A single word escaped Quentin Blackwood’s lips.

"Yes, yes, I’m going right now." The man scurried away, not daring to harbor any lingering improper thoughts.

Quentin Blackwood looked down at Ivy Sherwood. "Your makeup is smeared."

"Is it?" Ivy Sherwood didn’t have a mirror, so she couldn’t tell.

"Come with me." Quentin Blackwood took her hand and pulled her along.

The massive cruise ship was equipped with every possible facility, including private powder rooms specially prepared for the female guests.

Once the door was closed, an indicator outside would show it was occupied, so no one would come in and disturb them.

The vanities inside were laden with all sorts of high-end cosmetics, as lavish as a department store counter. This must be the stuff of countless girls’ dreams.

The vanity mirrors were exceptionally large, and the lighting was excellent, illuminating every detail of one’s face with perfect clarity.

Ivy Sherwood looked at her reflection. "It’s not smeared, is it?"

’My makeup looks exactly the same. How is it smeared?’

Just as she was feeling puzzled, she raised her hand to touch the corner of her eye, feeling what seemed to be an itchy eyelash there.

Before she could touch it, a strong hand wrapped around her waist. With a single arm, Quentin Blackwood lifted her up and sat her on the vanity.

Her large, dark eyes were wide with shock. The next second, the man leaned down and roughly sealed her lips with his.

Giving Ivy Sherwood no chance to struggle, Quentin Blackwood’s kiss was airtight and urgent.

’In truth, he’d wanted to do this ever since before they boarded the cruise.’

’Ivy Sherwood made all of his resistance crumble. Far too many people were looking at her tonight. You could hide a beautiful face, but you couldn’t hide a perfect figure like hers.’

’He hated every lecherous gaze that fell upon Ivy Sherwood. He didn’t know when it started, but his possessiveness over her seemed to be growing stronger and stronger.’

Inside the powder room, the air grew thick with a sensuous charge.

Ivy Sherwood’s hands subconsciously hooked around the man’s shoulders, while his hand gripped her waist. The back of her gown was an open-back design, and the mirror reflected their passionate, lingering embrace.

After a long moment, Quentin Blackwood finally released her.

He brushed his thumb gently over her lips, the fire burning in his pupils completely undisguised.

His voice was tinged with desire and huskiness. "Now it’s smeared."

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

’What kind of "smeared makeup" is this? It’s all Quentin Blackwood’s fault!’

Quentin Blackwood had actually been restrained this time; at least he hadn’t kissed her until her lips were red and swollen.

Ivy Sherwood glanced back at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was flushed, but she couldn’t tell if it was from the kiss or from the heat in the room.

Her lipstick was indeed smeared now. And looking at Quentin Blackwood’s lips, they were stained with the color of her lipstick.

"Mr. Blackwood, how does the lipstick taste?" Ivy Sherwood’s eyes curved into crescents.

A glint appeared in Quentin Blackwood’s eyes. ’This little vixen is trying to seduce him again.’

"You didn’t taste it just now?"

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

The taste of Quentin Blackwood still lingered on her lips and teeth—an explosion of fir with a fresh sweetness—so much so that she had no idea what her own lipstick tasted like.

’Should I say I tasted it or not?’

’She wasn’t going to discuss this topic with Quentin Blackwood anymore. She could never win an argument with him.’

’When this man started talking dirty, he had a whole arsenal of lines. He said plenty in bed, and every time, the only way Ivy could shut him up was to use her own body to stop his mouth.’

Ivy Sherwood pulled out a makeup remover pad from the side, hooked an arm around Quentin Blackwood’s neck to bring his face close to hers, and then gently wiped the lipstick stain from his lips to avoid anyone seeing it when they went out.

After cleaning him up, Ivy Sherwood took out her own lipstick and reapplied it in front of the mirror.

As they were leaving, Quentin Blackwood took off his suit jacket and draped it over Ivy Sherwood’s shoulders.

Ivy was puzzled. "Hm? I’m not cold."

"Wear it." Quentin Blackwood’s tone was forceful, forbidding her from taking it off.

’It was a wonder he didn’t button it all the way up for her.’

His suit was a bit large on her. Looking at her like this, she seemed like a small creature he was keeping, all bundled up.

’This way, no one could see Ivy’s figure. Plus, the man’s suit jacket would signal to most people that she was with someone. That way, not so many would get any funny ideas or covet what was his.’

The suit jacket still held Quentin Blackwood’s body heat. His face was usually as cold as a polar bear’s, but his body was so warm.

Ivy Sherwood didn’t struggle, letting Quentin Blackwood put it on for her.

She lifted her gaze and stole a glance at Quentin Blackwood. From her angle, she could see his chin, his strong, well-defined jawline. The face so close to hers was flawlessly perfect.

Her heart couldn’t help but tremble. She felt like she was in a whirlpool, watching herself sink deeper and deeper with open eyes.

Just then, Quentin Blackwood lowered his gaze, his eyes meeting hers directly.

"What are you looking at? Hmm?" The sound was nasal but soft, like a small feather tickling the tip of one’s heart, unbearably so.

The tips of Ivy Sherwood’s ears secretly turned red. Her long lashes fluttered guiltily as she averted her gaze, her voice lacking any conviction. "I wasn’t looking at you, that’s for sure!"

"Is that so?" The corners of the man’s mouth lifted slightly. ’The little vixen’s blushing, contrary act was just too enticing. He wanted to kiss her again.’