My Married Roommate Asked Me to Give Her a Baby

Before the words even fully landed, Hannah lifted her pale, graceful neck and kissed Evan on the mouth.

Last time, she had only kissed his neck.

This time, it was directly on his lips.

Not a light touch.

A deep kiss.

Evan was completely ignited by that sudden heat.

Since you were the one who started the fire, don't blame me for throwing wood into it.

He turned from passive to active, one large hand cupping the back of Hannah's head as he kissed her back with frightening seriousness.

His other hand followed the smooth line of her thigh, moving upward over the silk of her nightgown. The fabric was thin enough that every tremble beneath it seemed to pass straight into his palm.

The two rolled across the wide bed like fish thrown out of water, hungry for breath and unwilling to separate.

The room grew hot.

The quilt twisted under them. The silk straps at Hannah's shoulder slipped low, and Evan's shirt was half-pulled from his body by her desperate fingers. Their breaths tangled together, the nightgown riding higher as knees shifted, legs bent, and bodies pressed closer than either of them had ever dared while sober.

For several minutes, there was only the sound of their breathing, the rustle of fabric, and Hannah's broken little gasps whenever Evan's mouth moved from her lips to the side of her neck.

Evan's reason was almost gone.

Hannah's arms were around his shoulders. Her body was soft beneath him, her waist arching in helpless response, her flushed face turned toward the pillow as if she wanted to hide from her own desire and could not.

At the final moment, when Evan was about to cross the last line, something seemed to stab Hannah's nerves awake.

In that last instant, she dragged back a shred of reason.

"No..."

"Evan, no. We can't."

Hannah suddenly opened her eyes and used all her strength to push him away.

"No. Please, Evan... stop."

Tears clung to the corners of her eyes. Her voice shook badly.

"I... I'm a married woman. I have a husband."

After saying that, Hannah quickly pulled the thin blanket over herself and wrapped it tightly around her body.

She hugged her knees, curled into the far corner of the bed, shut her eyes, and under the force of alcohol and exhaustion, fell straight asleep.

Only Evan remained, lying flat on the bed, arms spread, eyes bloodshot, panting hard.

What the hell.

You lit the damn fuse, dragged the fire all the way to the powder barrel, and now you fall asleep?

You kill and refuse to bury the body, huh?

Evan was so pent up he almost wanted to smash his head into the wall.

But he really had drunk too much tonight. The force of the alcohol suddenly rose up. His head hurt as if it would split, and his stomach churned violently.

He rolled off the bed, grabbed the trash can, and vomited until his throat burned.

In the end, he had no choice.

He hugged a pillow and fell into a muddled sleep.

The next day, the sun was already high.

Light slipped through the gap in the curtains, and the two finally woke from their hangovers.

Evan opened his eyes in a daze.

His whole body ached.

Then he lowered his head and instantly sucked in a breath.

At some point, Hannah had rolled over. Her whole body clung to him like an octopus, arms and legs wrapped tightly around him.

The deadliest part was that Evan's right hand had somehow landed very naturally, very accurately, on the firm curve of Hannah's backside.

At that moment, Hannah let out a soft sound and slowly opened her eyes.

Their gazes met.

The instant she woke, she saw Evan staring at her with wide eyes.

She froze for one second.

Then she screamed.

"Ah!"

Hannah sprang away like she had been shocked by electricity, instantly retreating to the other side of the bed while clutching the edge of the blanket to her chest.

"Evan! We... what happened last night?"

Her face was pale. In panic, she looked down to check her clothes.

Thank God.

Although her silk nightgown was badly rumpled, the important layers beneath had not been undone.

Her body did not have that unmistakable soreness either.

That meant the final line had been held.

But when she caught a glimpse of Evan's hand that had just been resting on her backside, her face burned red again.

She carefully reached over and, blushing hard, moved his arm aside.

Evan rubbed his throbbing temples and put on a perfectly innocent expression.

"Hannah... I don't know either."

"Last night you drank too much. You insisted I help you back to your room. The moment we got to the bed, you grabbed my clothes and wouldn't let go. You kept forcing me to stay here and sleep with you."

"I couldn't break free. Later the alcohol hit me too, and I passed out."

Evan directly threw the blame onto Hannah's drinking habits.

Your drunken behavior was bad. You can't blame me.

Hannah heard that she had been the one clinging to him, and embarrassment nearly killed her.

"Oh... so that's what happened."

"Sorry, Evan. I drank too much last night. Maybe I blacked out a little."

She apologized in broken little sentences, not daring to lift her head.

Then she scrambled off the bed, did not even bother with slippers, and ran into the bathroom with a red face.

The door locked with a bang.

Sitting on the toilet lid, Hannah splashed cold tap water over her burning cheeks again and again. Her heart still hammered violently.

Although she had told Evan she blacked out, the truth was that she remembered everything from last night.

Every kiss.

Every breath.

Every moment when she had almost given herself over.

They had been so close.

Truly only the last tiny distance remained before she and Evan broke through the forbidden line completely.

Hannah covered her face with both hands, her mind blank.

She hid in the bathroom for a long while, feeling she had no face to go out and see Evan.

Only after she pressed her ear to the door and heard the living room become completely quiet did she sneak out.

She meant to slip back into the master bedroom, but the moment she stepped out, she bumped into Evan, already dressed.

"Hannah, are you okay?"

Hannah nodded stiffly.

"I'm fine."

"I have class this afternoon. Are you going to school?"

Hannah lowered her head and gave a soft yes.

"Okay. Change clothes. I'll wait."

Evan sat obediently on the sofa.

After a while, Hannah came out in a fitted professional suit.

She wore a pair of delicate gold-rimmed glasses, with two fine metal chains hanging beside them.

The outfit made her look pure and dangerous at the same time.

Clean enough to teach a class.

Tempting enough to ruin a man's concentration.

"Let's go."

After saying that, Hannah changed shoes and walked out.

In the car, neither of them spoke.

The atmosphere was strange.

Hannah kept thinking, if they had truly crossed that line last night, what would she do today?

Evan looked out the window and thought the same thing.

If it had happened, what then?

Would Hannah throw him out?

Would she hate him?

He did not know.

But he did know one thing.

He did not want to sleep with Hannah because of one drunken impulse and destroy their relationship completely.

That was why, last night, when she had begged him to stop, he had stopped.

Evan's appetite was big.

What he wanted was not one impulsive night with Hannah.

He wanted to sleep beside her for a lifetime.

Elsewhere, just after Evan and Hannah drove away from the villa, Rowan returned in his own car.

After parking, Rowan opened the door and entered the house.

From his bag, he took out four small black boxes.

Each box contained a miniature pinhole camera, the newest model on the market.

Rowan busied himself around the house.

He installed one in Evan's room.

One in Hannah's room.

One in the living room.

And one in the bathroom.

He wanted to see how far Hannah's feelings toward Evan had changed during these days.

Then from behind the scenes, he would act as director and guide Evan step by step.

Until Evan completely took Hannah down.

Author's Note:

This story will continue updating here.

If you want to read more, you can unlock it here:

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Thank you for reading.