The Grants: Choosing One Between The Two-Chapter 195: Ethan and Yvette’s Daily Flirting

Chapter 195: Chapter 195: Ethan and Yvette’s Daily Flirting

Yvette Aston’s eyes were red. She knew well that Ethan Grant was doing this not because she was his so-called contract wife, yet she was still moved.

"Then, then... should we continue?" Yvette asked Ethan hesitantly.

"What else? Aren’t you planning to extinguish the fire you ignited yourself?" Ethan gazed at Yvette dangerously.

Yvette’s heart raced, and she took the initiative to hug Ethan’s neck.

"Mr. Grant, how long is the vacation this time?" Yvette inquired softly.

She wanted to know how much longer she could be alone with Ethan outside.

People really do grow greedier.

Now she actually had thoughts of wanting to have Ethan all to herself.

Even if it was just for a short while.

"No rush, after attending the wedding banquet, I’ll take you somewhere," Ethan didn’t directly go for Yvette; instead, he carefully helped blow-dry her hair with a towel.

Since coming out of prison, Yvette hadn’t cut her hair, which had grown quite fast and was already almost to her shoulders.

"Yvette..." Ethan’s voice was a bit hoarse as he rubbed Yvette’s head and spoke. "Leave your hair long."

Yvette looked up at Ethan and softly asked, "Does Mr. Grant like long hair?"

"The first time I saw you, you had long hair." Ethan cupped Yvette’s face.

This face was so small.

"Do you remember when was the first time I saw you?" Ethan chuckled.

Yvette thought carefully for a moment and nodded. "At the Grant Family."

Ethan snorted, a bit displeased. "No."

At that time, Yvette truly only had Jayden Grant in her heart and eyes, so she couldn’t see anyone else.

Even if it was someone as outstanding as Ethan Grant.

"At your school." Ethan had been invited back to attend a forum where he’d seen the tardy Yvette.

Yvette blinked, really unable to remember.

"And your ballet solo performance," Ethan spoke again.

Yvette’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Was Ethan there that day too?

"No impression of me at all?" Ethan’s voice was full of jealousy.

"I do..." Yvette spoke timidly.

Actually, there really was no impression.

"Back then, I didn’t dare to look at you. I always thought you were fierce and not easily approachable." Yvette hurriedly explained.

The time she went to the Grant Family and met Ethan was the first impression of direct contact in Yvette’s memory.

Ethan was indeed very serious, with a gloomy face and a frighteningly low air pressure all around, as if his face read "Keep Out of Reach, Don’t Talk to Me."

"Me, fierce?" Ethan squinted. "And now?"

"Now..." Yvette took a deep breath, not daring to speak the truth.

Actually, Ethan’s aura was too oppressive, and she was still scared.

It’s just that she wasn’t as scared as she used to be.

"Not fierce anymore," Yvette sneaked a smile, her head resting on Ethan’s shoulder.

It’s not that Ethan wasn’t fierce now, it’s that she was now bolder.

Ethan picked up the hairdryer and blew out her hair, speaking softly by her ear. "Little liar."

Yvette’s cheeks flushed, silent.

Ethan turned off the hairdryer and carried her back to the bed.

He kissed Yvette’s ear, his voice hoarse. "What’s Holly Ziegler teaching you? Hmm?"

Yvette stammered, "Just, just..."

Unable to speak for a long time, she decided to take action directly.

Propping herself up, Yvette boldly pushed Ethan down.

Ethan wanted to laugh but feared Yvette would be shy, so he simply lay quietly, looking at her.

Yvette’s fair little face was as red as a boiled shrimp, as she sat upon Ethan voluntarily.

No movement for a long time.

"..." Ethan inhaled sharply; was Holly teaching her to torture and test his endurance?

"And then?" Ethan asked meaningfully.

Yvette’s mind short-circuited, completely forgetting the details Holly had taught her.

After a long hesitation, she gently poked Ethan’s abs with her finger. "You should work out..."

"Ah!" Before Yvette finished asking, Ethan directly pressed her down.

He is not Saint Elian, who remains indifferent even when tempted.

The main thing now was that Yvette was too enticing.

...

Perhaps he really bullied her a bit harshly these days; sometimes Yvette would just fall asleep, not even realizing Ethan had taken her in for a shower.

Sleeping restfully through the night, Yvette woke the next morning finding Ethan already gone from the room.

"Mr. Grant?"

"Ethan Grant?"

Yvette was somewhat afraid.

She actually feared waking up alone in a hotel.

Probably the remnants of trauma from six years ago.

She feared Ethan would be bored of her, and once done, would abandon her.

Nervously, Yvette got out of bed and sought Ethan, only to see him entering the living room, sweat-soaked, evidently from a workout.

"You..." Yvette’s voice was choked. "Where did you go?"

Ethan glanced at Yvette, seeing her eyes redden, his heart clenched.

He wanted Yvette to sleep more.

"Didn’t you want to know how the abs came about?" Ethan took off his shirt, his muscles sharply defined due to the blood flow.

Panicked, Yvette avoided looking at Ethan, overwhelmed by sexual tension.

Ethan cornered Yvette. "Were you scared just now when you couldn’t see me?"

Yvette obediently nodded.

"Then next time, how about joining me for a workout?"

Yvette’s heart raced, Ethan was too captivating.

Just as Ethan intended to further tease Yvette, the doorbell rang.

The hotel butler arrived with dresses and breakfast.

"Sir, Ma’am," the butler smiled in service.

Yvette’s ears reddened further.

Ma’am?

This title...

Only abroad, where few knew them.

"The dress for attending the wedding banquet?" Yvette looked at the white gown hanging nearby, speaking in astonishment. "Am I to attend alongside you?"

"What else? Leave you waiting in the hotel? Won’t you be sobbing?" Ethan reassured by rubbing Yvette’s head. "Go try the dress for fit, I’ll take a shower."

After Ethan finished his shower, he saw Yvette struggling with the zipper on her back.

These dresses were high-end custom designs; although Yvette had been away from society for five years, she still knew something about high-end brands and their prices.

This dress could be worth over two hundred thousand, maybe more.

Yvette felt the dress was too precious, fearing she would damage it.

"Does the size fit?" Ethan approached, helped zip up, and embraced her from behind, examining Yvette in the mirror.

He had to admit, Yvette was truly beautiful.

Even five years in prison hadn’t dulled her radiance.

But the suicide scars on her arms were startling.

Nervously, Yvette grasped her wrist, not daring to show Ethan.

Ethan’s gaze fell on her wrist, his eyes darkening momentarily.

"Mr. Grant... how, how did you know my size?" Yvette diverted the conversation.

"What do you think?" Ethan pinched her waist.

Yvette’s face flushed again, silent with her head lowered.

"The wedding banquet requires white attire," Ethan held Yvette’s wrist, looking at those scars. "What is our relationship?"

Yvette tensed, unsure of how to answer.

"Superiors and subordinates..."

"Registered," Ethan reminded Yvette.

Yvette nodded, responding softly.

"So, I won’t let anyone hurt you again, including yourself," Ethan wrapped a scarf around Yvette’s wrist, covering those ghastly scars. "Remember?"