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Summary
Look at you now,” Wei Ying gasps. “Humping my leg in a swimming pool, in public where anyone could see you. You’re a bad boy. A bad influence. The kind of boyfriend my mother doesn’t want me to have.”
“Wei Ying.” Low and desperate, a spark flying from flint to tinder. “I think — I might be coming.”
Or: Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are forced to improvise when a heat wave and a broken air-con get in the way of their horny plans.
Series
- Part 11 of Jing's Chinese Diaspora Works
