My One-month Marriage With Mr. Hawkins

Chapter 23: Don’t Distance Yourself from Me, Florence

Florence head was about to explode from the extreme tension. Ernest’s existence was more like a divine being and beyond her and everyone else’s reaches. He even rejected Harold’s plea, whom was his mate for many years, so the idea of him helping her to evade this situation was most likely out of the picture...

And out of everything else it had to be a French kiss.

Florence grappled with the difficult situation for a minute, and she finally said with a red face, “This is too extreme for me, can we switch to another punishment?”

“Nope, not any chance considering the fact that I had already risked my reputation and disgraced myself by doing a Kabedon on a guy,” Harold downright vetoed her appeal.

“But...” Florence wanted to say something else to save herself from this situation, instead she noticed Harold whom was looking her up and down suspiciously.

“Florence, don’t tell me you have never kiss Ernest before this? Why do you sound so sheepish?”

Florence gulped nervously, staying silent as she was chastened by her self-conscience after his words had abashed her.

As Ernest’s nominal fiancée, she should play the role well to avoid people’s speculation that they were not on good terms. She dared not answer lightly considering the circumstances that she was in.

Florence felt like she was on the edge as panic had engulfed her. She finally turned to Ernest for help and pleaded softly, “Please help me, Mr. Hawkins.”

Ernest stared at her redden face with a dimming gaze. He said with a husky tone, “Alright.”

With his huge hand, he grabbed and held the back of her head, then he lowered his head and started kissing her.

“Mm!”

Florence stiffened as she could feel the cooling sensation coupled with delicate softness brushed against her lips. She stared unbelievably at the enlarged breath-taking face right in front of her, her mind could not comprehend what had just happened.

She just wished for him to help her out by changing the punishment, but instead he, he had decided to kiss her? And it was in front of the whole crowd!

With her heart beating crazily and almost leaping out of her chest, Florence freaked out and tried to push him away, but Ernest’s hand on the back of her head was full of strength, locking her in with no way to escape.

His kiss lingered on her lips, alluring her in with his growing intensity and ferventness.

Florence could not hear her surroundings clearly as light-headedness had hit her, her body slowly losing strength while she got weak at her knees.

Ernest finally let her go after what felt like an eternity.

Florence dropped her head as soon as it ended, her face blushing from embarrassment. She was so mortified that she could not lift her head up.

Harold clutched at his heart and started teasing them, “That was so romantic; you’re stirring up the envy in us singles.”

Florence felt even more hard-pressed, and she wished she could dig a hole to hide herself.

Ernest raised his eyes and uttered nonchalantly, “Stop with the bullshit. Do you still want to continue with the game?”

“Of course.” Harold quickly handed the dice over to Florence for fear that Ernest would just seize her and leave. He was still making eyes at her and teasing her further, “Florence, keep up the good work.”

Florence felt like she would be too ashamed to face people if it was going to happen again.

Unable to overcome the psychological trauma that she was still reeling in, she clutched the dice in hesitance as she could not bear to roll it simply anymore.

As if he knew what was going on in her mind, Ernest lowered his head slightly and whispered in her ear, “It’s okay, I’ve got your back.”

Florence heart skipped a beat upon hearing his seductive voice which was gentle and bewitching. Even though her flushed face was lighting up again, his reassurance had set her mind at rest.

The game continued till 2 a.m., and the crowd was finally getting ready to disperse and called it a day as most of them were either drunk or tired.

Just when Florence had stood up with her bag in her hand, Harold popped up in front of her and said, “Florence, could you send Ernest back home since he has had some drinks and is clearly not in the state to be behind the wheel? All of us had a few drinks too so it would be inappropriate for us to do so.”

“Me?” Florence froze for a while and took a glance at the man whom was still sitting beside her. He did have a lot of booze tonight as he had finished off all the drinks that were supposed to be downed by her as punishment during the game on behalf of her.

He seemed unwell and was resting his eyes in repose, his body leaning on the sofa.

Florence felt apologetic to a certain extent and asked after some pausing moment, “Where is Timothy? I thought he is always driving Ernest around.”

“It’s already deep into the night, so he had gotten off work.” Harold replied readily.

Florence concurred with him after giving it some thought. She turned to Phoebe who was drunk as a skunk, her face glowing with redness. Phoebe beamed brightly at her and upon seeing Florence’s worried gaze on her, she announced, “My dad has already sent a driver to pick me up so don’t you worry about me. You should send Mr. Hawkins back.”

Free from any hindrance that could hold her back, Florence turned to look at the man beside her and said gently, “Mr. Hawkins, we should leave now. I will send you back.”

Ernest’s face silhouette appeared more chiselled and captivating under the blanket of dimmed colourful lights.

He slowly opened his eyes and shot his gaze at Florence while being deeply absorbed in his thought.

Harold brushed his nose uneasily as if he was guilt-ridden by something.

Ernest finally got up and strode towards the exit of the club without saying anything.

It seemed that he was not really drunk as his steps were unfaltering while his towering figure unswerving and he was still the man whom people looked up to. It would not be a tough job sending him back if he had his consciousness, she thought to herself.

Florence gripped her bag and ran after him right away.

After witnessing Ernest’s departure, Harold slumped down on the sofa lazily, a smug grin hanging on his face for he had gotten away with his plan.

Phoebe turned her head to look at him, exposing his plan, “I actually overheard that you have asked Timothy to go back by himself over the phone.”

Harold was surprised as he did not expect his plan to be uncovered. He grinned enigmatically at Phoebe, “If I’m not mistaken, your driver would not show up too.”

“Well, it takes one to know one. I’m out of here, see you.”

Phoebe stood up and started to teeter towards the exit, swaying a little along the way.

Harold grabbed hold of his coat and went after her, “Let me send you home.”

Florence drove Ernest back in his car to his villa in the Senna International Community. When she had gotten off the car, she noticed Ernest was still not coming out after a short while. She went around to the passenger side and asked with uncertainty, “Are you okay? Is your head dizzy?”

“Yeah.” Ernest’s gaze on her was filled with ambiguity.

Florence hesitated for a while, and she tentatively asked, “Do you want me to give you a hand?”

“Yes.”

“…” Florence was hit speechless. She had only asked out of courtesy, but she was taken aback when he agreed to it so readily. Maybe he felt really awful after so many glasses of drink.

Without further ado, she pulled the passenger’s side door open and helped Ernest down carefully.

With his arm wrapped around her shoulder, the gravity of his whole body was leaning on her, but the extent of his weight was surprisingly bearable for Florence.

It seemed more like he was hugging her intimately.

Florence’s cheek fired up as uneasiness started to creep up inside of her, but she could only salve her conscience by hypnotizing herself that she was just lending a helping hand to a drunkard.

When they reached the front door, she stared at the electronic lock and said, “Mr. Hawkins, could you please open the door?”

Ernest lifted his hand to authenticate his fingerprint on the scanner, and the door was unlocked in an instant.

Just as Florence was about to push the door open, Ernest grabbed her tiny hand and placed it on the fingerprint scanner.

A robotic voice sounded from the machine: Your fingerprint has been saved successfully.

Florence gasped in shock, “Why did you save my fingerprint?”

Ernest replied with a casual and decisive tone, “It will make things easier for you in the future.”

For the purpose of convenience? Unless she would have to come here often, why would it be of use to her…

Florence heart skipped a beat at this thought and her mind suddenly exploded in turmoil.

She did not want to dwell on the thought any longer, so she hurriedly pushed the door open and dropped Ernest off.

“I have to go now, Mr. Hawkins. Please have a good rest,” she finished her sentence politely, wanting to leave this place as soon as possible.

Ernest’s eyes darkened; his hand swiftly reached out to grab her by her wrist. His fathomless eyes were fixated on her, “You don’t have to deliberately alienate me, Florence.”

Florence was stunned on the spot. He, what did he mean by that?

Ernest’s eyes were like a black hole trying to suck all her soul in, and they made her heart palpitated. She was soon drowning in anxiety.

She opened her mouth hastily as she felt like she was being put on the spot, “No, I, I am not alienating you.”

“Is that so?” Ernest glared at her intrusively as he obviously did not buy her words.

His tall figure started to lean forward, his striking face closing in on her.