Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 315: This is an Intense Kiss

Chapter 315: Chapter 315: This is an Intense Kiss

Christopher listened to her words, his expression extremely peculiar.

This...

...was completely different from her attitude during this period.

Although he had selective amnesia, Benny Palmer told him that she had always avoided him like the plague. No matter how much sincerity or devotion he showed, she discarded him as if he were an old shoe.

But today—she unexpectedly started playing the rogue.

Christopher stared at her, thinking about his illusion again.

Could it really not be an illusion?

She truly seemed different—less resistant to him, and even relaxed and natural in his presence.

Could this mean that she had finally figured things out? That she was willing to reconcile and start anew with him?

Thinking this, Christopher suddenly felt a surge of excitement and was eager to prove his conjecture.

If... she didn’t resist his closeness, could that mean she had truly accepted him again?

But he couldn’t act rashly. How could he trick this clever and cunning little woman into coming closer?

Amelia Garcia, having said those words, still put on the appearance of a brazen woman, but inwardly, she was incredibly anxious.

She was even more afraid he’d see through her.

So she pretended to be calm, bowing her head to eat, taking bite after bite, feigning an enjoyment of food that left her too preoccupied to pay him any attention.

But in reality, she was avoiding his probing gaze.

However, it seemed like she couldn’t escape after all.

"Hey, come over here."

"..." She continued to eat with her head down, feigning deafness.

"I’m talking to you—what, cat got your tongue?" He mimicked her earlier tone and shot back mockingly.

She couldn’t keep pretending, so she reluctantly looked up. "What do you want?"

"Come over here; I’ve got something to ask you."

"Can’t you ask me here?"

"What’s with this attitude? I’m a patient, and I’m suffering all this because of you—you’re showing me such a lousy attitude?"

"..." Amelia could see he was deliberately provoking her, but she really didn’t want to deal with him. His moral coercion was truly vile.

After finishing the dish of spicy fish, she grabbed the last piece and popped it into her mouth. The heat made her inhale sharply, and she grabbed a napkin to wipe her mouth as she got up, her face full of irritation. "If you have something to say, say it! If you’ve got gas, just let it out!"

She was becoming increasingly like a brazen rogue.

Christopher looked at her behavior—it was clearly a paper tiger front—and his suspicion became more certain.

"I’ve been lying here for too long; it’s uncomfortable. Help me turn over."

Amelia became cautious, eyeing him up and down. "You... shouldn’t the caregiver do it? You just had surgery again; I’m afraid I might accidentally hurt your wound."

"I’m just asking you to do me a favor—why so many excuses?" Mr. Hart’s face showed even more impatience than hers.

Amelia pursed her lips, still breathing heavily from the heat.

Her lips were naturally quite bright—looking like she’d applied lipstick, even with minimal makeup.

And now, irritated by the chili peppers, her lips were so red, they seemed ready to bleed.

Her beautifully captivating eyes, perhaps due to the spiciness and heat, shone with a glittering, moist luster.

Christopher restrained the reflexive motion at his throat, seeing her standing there frozen while eyeing him cautiously. He decided to provoke her further: "What’s wrong? Do I look like a wild beast ready to devour you?"

"..." Amelia indeed took the bait.

She discarded the napkin and bent over. Her arm, separated by the blanket, came into contact with his body.

As soon as she leaned down, the man’s gaze caught something, and his eyes grew dark and intense, looking like the fathomless depths of a deep blue ocean.

The next moment, he suddenly acted, gripping the woman’s wrist with precision.

"Ah—" Amelia cried out in surprise, her face drained of color. Her body leaned dangerously forward, threatening to topple onto him in a precarious imbalance until she managed to pull back her other hand to brace herself on his shoulder!

—Otherwise, she might have crashed into him hard enough to send him straight to the gates of hell.

Fuming with rage, furious beyond belief, she quickly raised her head, preparing to unleash a tirade, only to have the back of her neck gripped by a large hand, pulling her face—just barely inches off the ground—back down again.

Then, her lips met his in a kiss!

This scoundrel—so his true intention was...

"Hss——" She hadn’t had a chance to rebuke him, struggle, or explode with anger before she heard him hiss sharply, immediately pushing her away. His handsome face contorted painfully into wrinkles, "Why is it so spicy! Water—get me water!"

Amelia was shoved aside and stood upright, watching him sticking out his tongue from the chili heat. She couldn’t help but laugh: "Mr. Hart, are you a dog or something?"

She had turned the words he used earlier on her back at him, with just a slight tweak in phrasing.

Christopher was still wiping his mouth, but nothing seemed to help—this spicy, numbing sensation seemed to penetrate deep into the skin, leaving him hopping with irritation.

"Get me water!"

"Water won’t help—I’ve been drinking tons of it, and I’m still feeling the burn." Leisurely standing at the edge of the hospital bed, arms crossed, she adopted the pose of an amused bystander.

"What now? Still trying to play rogue? Or should I let you have another taste of the spicy fish? It’s actually pretty good, isn’t it?" Watching the man’s distress, Amelia couldn’t resist teasing him further.

Christopher glared at her, hearing her words with deep implications. For several seconds, he forgot about the fiery sensation on his lips.

Her meaning just then—could it be a hint at willingly offering a kiss?

Before he could sort out his thoughts, the burning sensation pulled him back to reality.

Looking up, he reached toward the water cup on the bedside table, only for that damned woman to snatch it away just in time.

"I remember you used to handle spicy food quite well. What happened, turned into royalty now? Can’t even handle a bit of chili?"

Actually, she couldn’t handle this level of spice either, but for now, she had to keep up appearances.

And Christopher indeed used to handle spicy food—he was a grown man, after all; who would avoid it?

But ever since Hope came into his life, taking care of a child’s dietary needs, coupled with Hope’s poor health and frail physique, meant they only ate mild, bland food from a young age—so he hadn’t touched anything spicy in years.

"Amelia Garcia!" Seeing her intentionally causing trouble, Mr. Hart was visibly embarrassed and angry.

"I’m here, aren’t I? Do you still need to turn over? Want another taste of the spicy fish?"

"..." Christopher didn’t know if it was out of frustration, but he simply lay back down, throwing an arm over his forehead, closing his eyes to cool off.

The woman stared. Seeing him falling silent, she assumed his fury had boiled over into a silent sulk. Curious, she leaned in closer: "Hey, what’s up? Surely you wouldn’t get overwhelmed by a bit of spice, right? It didn’t even go down—it shouldn’t harm your health, shouldn’t it?"

Seeing no reaction, Amelia straightened up a bit, her tone slightly more serious, and reached out to prod his arm: "Hey... say something! Don’t scare me like this, alright?"

The next second, the man’s eyes suddenly opened and, where before his face had been stern and displeased, now it carried a wickedly triumphant smile.

She realized she’d fallen for his trick yet again and wanted to pull back—but it was too late—

The back of her neck was once more seized, her face tugged downward.

His breath brushed against her—a deep and prolonged kiss ensued.

Amelia was utterly stunned!

Amidst the chaos, she still remembered holding a cup of water, which she intended to place back on the table.

But unfortunately, it wasn’t stabilized—the cup tipped over, spilling water everywhere.

No one paid it any mind.

"Christopher... aren’t you... afraid of the spice anymore?" She wanted to lift her head, but the man once again captured her, pressing her lips back down. Amid her shock, she blinked her curious big eyes and asked him.

The man was already determined this time: "If it kills me under beauty’s spell, so be it—today, even if this spiciness gives me gastritis, you’re not escaping!"

Ha, Amelia didn’t want to escape.

Since she’d returned to the country, she and Christopher had shared moments of intimacy no fewer than three times.

Before, it was always her fiercely resisting, unable to evade, never having the chance to truly experience the feeling of kissing.

Now her perspective had shifted—she actually thought... this sensation wasn’t bad at all.

And moreover, there seemed to be a strange kind of magic to it—that his kiss somehow drew away the numbing spice in her lips.