On the contrary, Henry Jiang grabbed Frederick Fu’s hand on his shoulder and pulled it in his direction. Frederick Fu leaned forward and sat on Henry Jiang’s lap.
Henry Jiang’s two arms were wrapped around Frederick Fu’s waist, locking him in his arms.
Frederick Fu’s face flushed immediately, until his neck was red, like a cooked shrimp, he moved his body a little nervously.
Henry Jiang whispered: “Let me hold it for a while.”
Frederick Fu’s movements stopped immediately. His back was close to Henry Jiang’s chest, as if he could hear the beating of the heart in Henry Jiang’s chest, Henry Jiang’s large palms covered the back of Frederick Fu’s hands. His breath fell on Frederick Fu’s neck.
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