Mr. Ford is Jealous

Chapter 1257

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Chapter 1257

Meanwhile, because there was a heater in the tent, the air was warm and cozy, and Stella had settled in snugly.

However, when she saw Weston come in again, bringing with him a gust of frosty air, she frowned, annoyance

written all over her face. “Stop. Stay there. Don’t come any closer.”

Weston stopped in his tracks. He remained unfazed by her bossy haughtiness, though he was bothered by how she

was looking at him as if he disgusted her.

And thus, he walked up to her and held her chin up with his hand. Before she had the time to react, he swiftly

swooped down and kissed her lips.

“Mmm…” Stella’s eyes widened in shock. The script slipped through her fingers, and she hit Weston hard on his

shoulders to make him stop.

But her resistance did not deter Weston in the slightest bit. Far from being hurt, it merely felt like a tickle.

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He clasped her hands together and, without any hesitation, dove right in and gave her a deeper kiss.

Stella kept on resisting, albeit helplessly, as she did not manage to make him budge at all.

Weston only let go of her when he was done kissing her. He leaned down on her forehead, still panting a little, and

whispered in her ear, “You’ve been bossing me for long enough now, it’s only fair that you reward me a little,

right…?”

“You can leave whenever you like, if you can’t bear it,” she pushed him away. “I’m not forcing you to be here.”

“Just think of it as me forcing you,” he replied.

As he parted his lips, his warm breath turned into white clouds of fog, giving the air in the tent an indescribably

sensuous atmosphere.

But he only kissed her that one time and then released her.

Stella took a deep breath. Her eyes were cold and crystalline. She picked up the script on the floor, but she was no

longer in the mood to read it.

Undeterred, Weston presented the dishes he brought with him to her, telling her, “The food up here tastes a little

different. I asked the kitchen to cook up a variety for you, so why don’t you try and see if you like any?”

“I’m not eating any of that,” she refused, not even looking at the dishes.

Weston paused, then asked her, “Which one do you dislike?”

“All of them,” she replied while looking straight into his eyes, obviously taunting him.

“What do you want to eat then?” he asked patiently. “I’ll go get it for you.”

“I told you–I want something icy.”

‘Anything but that,” he said, reaching out his hand to pinch her nose. He chuckled and asked her, “Do you really

want something icy?”

“Yes! How many times do I have to tell you? Stop asking me the same question! You’re clearly trying to annoy me.”

“Okay, then.”

Weston turned and left the tent without saying another word.

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When he returned, he really did bring her some ice cubes, but he also brought along a bottle of fine red wine.

Calmly, he walked up to her and set a tall glass in front of her.

Stella took a step back and stared at him, wondering what he was going to do.

Weston opened the bottle and filled a glass with wine before dropping some ice cubes into it.

“Didn’t you say you wanted something icy?” he asked.

“I said I wanted to eat something icy,” she argued. “I never said I wanted to drink wine.”

“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to,” he said, then he suddenly took a sip of the wine. An ice cube slid into

his mouth, and he swiftly held Stella’s chin in place before kissing her lips again.

An icy cold sensation passed between their lips. Stella was shocked by the coldness of the ice and wanted to push

him away, only for him to hold her tightly in place and kiss her even more deeply.

This kiss felt different from the previous one.

She kept trying to push him away and resist him, but the ice started to mix with her saliva, merging and mingling

together in their stickiness until it started to melt little by little.

The alcohol filled their mouths. Stella was feeling a little light–headed now.

Slowly, he managed to dissolve the strength of her resistance.

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