Chapter 261: Chapter 261: Like a Frenzied Beast, Fiercely Stopping Her Lips
Before he could even look up, the glass was snatched from his hand. "Stop drinking. Do you actually want to end up in the hospital?"
It was a familiar woman’s voice.
Quentin Blackwood looked up at the person in front of him.
Because she was backlit, the woman’s face wasn’t perfectly clear. His vision was hazy, but her face was impossibly beautiful.
The scent of rose-scented body wash was completely different from the smells in this private room. It was so sweet, it made him want to pull her into an embrace and claim her for himself, to make her roses bloom for him and him alone.
The sight before him felt so illusory, as if he were dreaming. Quentin Blackwood gave a self-mocking laugh. ’How could Ivy Sherwood possibly show up in a place like this? I must be so drunk I’m starting to hallucinate.’
"Julian Grant, give me the drink," Quentin Blackwood said, his voice incredibly hoarse from all the hard liquor.
’I must have mistaken her for someone else. To think I could mistake a big guy like Julian Grant for Ivy Sherwood. Heh.’
Meanwhile, Julian Grant and Graham Sherwood were dumbfounded, staring at the woman before them, too shocked to speak.
"B-Beautiful... who are you? Did you walk into the wrong room?" Julian Grant didn’t even dare to blink.
This bare-faced beauty was just too gorgeous, not losing out in the slightest to those with heavy, glamorous makeup. In fact, the cool aura she exuded made them too intimidated to speak for a moment.
Ivy Sherwood usually didn’t wear makeup at home after showering, so this was her natural appearance.
In her rush to get here, and since she had driven herself, she’d had no time to touch up her makeup. She had completely forgotten she wasn’t wearing any!
"I..."
Ivy Sherwood had just said one word when Julian Grant cut in, "Nope, I have to call Ivy right now. A pretty girl just showed up, trying to fight her for Quentin Blackwood."
"Miss, you should leave. Someone’s already coming to pick up our President Blackwood. Besides, no matter how you scheme and plot, you’ll never get Quentin Blackwood!"
Julian Grant’s mouth ran a mile a minute, giving no one else a chance to speak.
His hands didn’t stop moving either; he started dialing Ivy Sherwood’s number.
The moment he finished speaking, Ivy Sherwood’s phone started ringing.
Since there wasn’t any other chaotic noise in the private room—it was practically silent, and the soundproofing was good—the ringtone sounded particularly loud.
Julian Grant froze, watching wide-eyed as Ivy Sherwood picked up her phone and hung up on him.
"Mr. Grant, no need to call. I’m Ivy Sherwood."
This time, Julian Grant and Graham Sherwood were completely floored. "Y-You’re Ivy Sherwood?"
Julian Grant’s pupils dilated, unable to believe that this flawlessly beautiful face actually belonged to Ivy Sherwood.
Graham Sherwood had seen Ivy Sherwood before, and she didn’t look like this. He poked Julian Grant. "She didn’t get plastic surgery just for Quentin, did she?"
The two of them staring at her in unison made Ivy Sherwood feel embarrassed.
"Mr. Grant, I really am Ivy Sherwood, and I haven’t had plastic surgery. I’ll explain it to you later."
"Oh, oh, oh, you absolutely have to explain it to us then! I... well... just remember to get Quentin Blackwood home safely. We’ll head out first. He really drank too much this time. Look at all this on the table—he drank three-fifths of it by himself."
Julian Grant grabbed Graham Sherwood and started to leave, but after taking two steps, he turned back to look at Ivy Sherwood and Quentin Blackwood, and walked straight into the doorframe.
"Ah!" Julian Grant cried out, clutching his head.
"Are you okay, Mr. Grant?" ’Julian Grant is the one who needs someone to help him home,’ Ivy Sherwood thought.
Julian Grant waved his hand. "I’m fine, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me."
Julian Grant and Graham Sherwood left, leaving only Ivy Sherwood and Quentin Blackwood in the private room.
The last time the two of them had been alone together like this was in the elevator.
Quentin Blackwood stared at Ivy Sherwood. He knew now. The person before him wasn’t Julian Grant, nor was she a hallucination. She was Ivy Sherwood.
"You shouldn’t drink if you have a bad stomach. If you really want to end up in the hospital, you can just tell me. I’ll beat you up and put you there myself." ’That would be a good way to blow off some steam,’ she thought, ’though she didn’t even know what she was angry about.’
’Doesn’t Quentin Blackwood usually have more self-control? He’s always so rational.’
"Give me the drink." Quentin Blackwood reached out, trying to take the glass from Ivy Sherwood’s hand.
But Ivy Sherwood pulled it further away. "You can’t have any more. You’ve already had so much!"
"By what right are you telling me what to do?"
"I..." Ivy Sherwood fell silent for a moment. She really didn’t have the right to tell Quentin Blackwood what to do, but she couldn’t just stand by and watch him drink himself into a stupor.
Quentin Blackwood was already on his feet, moving to snatch the glass from Ivy Sherwood’s hand.
Ivy Sherwood was determined not to let him get it, but her height was nothing compared to Quentin Blackwood’s; she was completely outmatched.
Quentin Blackwood was so tall he could easily grab the glass from her.
"I don’t want to boss you around either, but Mr. Grant already left you in my care. For tonight, at least, I’m responsible for you."
Ivy Sherwood was focused only on the struggle for the glass, determined not to let Quentin Blackwood drink anymore.
She was practically jumping, not even realizing that one of her hands was braced against Quentin Blackwood’s chest.
Suddenly, however, Quentin Blackwood’s body fell backward as if she had tackled him. He landed half-reclined on the sofa, the glass dropping from his hand and spilling its contents all over the floor.
Because Ivy Sherwood’s center of gravity had been on Quentin Blackwood, she went down with him when he fell. They ended up in a position with him on the bottom and her on top, pressing down on his body.
They were pressed close together. It wasn’t the first time they had been in such intimate contact.
Ivy Sherwood hadn’t been drinking, so she was perfectly clear-headed. Before her was Quentin Blackwood’s slightly labored breathing, and the air between their noses was thick with the strong smell of alcohol from him.
"You don’t want to be responsible for me? Then who do you want to be responsible for? Seth Scott?" At the mention of that man’s name, Quentin Blackwood felt a sudden urge to tear him limb from limb.
’Why does this man love bringing up Seth Scott so much?’
"What does he have to do with this?" she asked, blinking in confusion.
The man met her gaze, and whatever reason he had left completely shattered.
’The woman before me is maddeningly beautiful. If Seth Scott saw her like this, he would definitely pursue her even more frantically.’
’That man is a sanctimonious hypocrite!’
Quentin Blackwood’s voice was tight, the sour scent of jealousy almost stronger than the smell of alcohol. "What do you mean it has nothing to do with him? Didn’t you two have dinner alone? Doesn’t he like you?"
"That doesn’t mean anything. Does having dinner alone automatically mean something’s going on? If he likes me, do I have to say yes?" Ivy Sherwood retorted.
Quentin Blackwood’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His eyes were bloodshot from not having rested well for the past two days.
"Fine, I won’t bother you anymore. If you want to drink, then drink." With that, Ivy Sherwood placed a hand on the sofa, trying to get up.
’This position we’re in right now really isn’t appropriate.’
However, before she could straighten up completely, her wrist was grabbed again by the man’s large hand. His strength was immense, and he yanked Ivy Sherwood forcefully back down.
This time, however, it wasn’t Ivy Sherwood on top of Quentin Blackwood. After pulling her down, he flipped over, pinning Ivy directly beneath him and leaving her unable to move.
The next second, the man leaned down and fiercely sealed her lips with his.
He was like a frenzied beast, unleashing all the jealousy, all the dissatisfaction, and all the longing that had built up over the past few days in this single moment.
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