"Hey, why don't you buckle your seatbelt?"
Wen Ran sat in the driver's seat and, just as she was about to fasten her own belt, she noticed the man beside her had his eyes closed, seemingly not planning to buckle up. After a moment's thought, she spoke up, "Help me out."
Mo Xiuchen, still with his eyes shut, responded in his low, magnetic voice—a voice that, in the enclosed space, carried a lazy, sensual quality—that made Wen Ran pause in surprise, her clear eyes widening.
After uttering those words, he raised one hand and gently massaged his temple, silently signaling that he was tired.
Hesitating for a few seconds and recalling what had happened that morning—if it weren't for his help, she could never have managed to keep those dissenting executives in line—she noticed the genuine hint of fatigue in his brows. Softly, she replied, "Okay," leaned over, and helped him fasten his seatbelt.
They sat so close that the air she breathed was suddenly replaced by his crisp, mature masculine scent. His handsome face was right beside hers, and Wen Ran's heart skipped a beat, out of sync.
Mo Xiuchen then opened his eyes, taking in her fair, delicate features. Her gentle, refined scent—like that of shower gel—filled him with a sense of ease.
"Have you ever helped a man buckle his seatbelt before?" he asked.
While Wen Ran was busy buckling his belt, that warm breath brushed past her ear, making her heart flutter. Instinctively, she lifted her head—just as Mo Xiuchen, who had been leaning back in his chair, sat up and slightly leaned forward. In that moment, she felt a warm caress on her forehead. Realizing what was happening, her face flushed bright red.
Mo Xiuchen was a bit surprised at her sudden lift of the head. Before she could react further, his lips met her forehead in a brief, tender kiss.
Though it was only a light brush, its soft touch deepened his gaze.
In an instant, the temperature in the car seemed to rise.
A subtle intimacy hung in the air, and the atmosphere grew delicate and charged.
Wen Ran couldn't bear to meet his deep eyes; in a fluster, she tried to retreat back to her seat, but her wrist was suddenly grasped by him.
"You still haven't answered my question!"
Mo Xiuchen's gaze turned deep as he looked at her, his long, clean hand firmly holding her wrist. His fingertips, a bit rough compared to her soft skin, sent a shiver up her spine with their inadvertent caress.
Whether it was that almost-kiss that had thrown her off or the warmth of his touch seeping into her skin and reaching her heart, Wen Ran's heartbeat began to race wildly, unable to calm down.
"No!" she whispered, her voice as soft as a gentle breeze that quickly dissipated into the charged air of the car.
"Then from now on, you're in charge of buckling my seatbelt."
Mo Xiuchen's words left Wen Ran wide-eyed in astonishment. In her understanding, it was always the man who helped his girlfriend or husband who helped his wife with her seatbelt. How had it come to this—him asking her to fasten his?
"Don't you want to?" he asked, his eyes fixed on her astonished gaze, his handsome brows lightly furrowed.
"Yes, I do—I want to!" she replied quickly, nodding repeatedly. In her heart, she thought that perhaps it was due to his condition that he made such a request. After all, it wasn't an unreasonable request at all—just helping him buckle his seatbelt. What could be wrong with that?
"Let's drive," he said.
Hearing her promise, the frown on Mo Xiuchen's face softened, and a cheerful smile spread along his lips.
Ignoring his alluring smile, Wen Ran took a deep breath, fastened her own seatbelt, and started the car.