I'm sexually frigid

He hadn't said what they would do after he showered, only told him to wait.

Without even waiting for an answer, Pei Yang curled his lips into a smile, bent down a little, and brushed a finger over Feng Wanting's Adam's apple.

Feng Wanting stood a full head taller than Pei Yang. Expressionless, he lowered his eyes to the smile at the corner of Pei Yang's mouth.

His Adam's apple bobbed twice beneath that finger. Pei Yang withdrew his hand and turned into the bathroom.

Watching the bathroom door close, Feng Wanting moved over to the sofa and sat down.

Should I wait or not?

Before Feng Wanting could decide, the phone in his suit trousers rang.

Seeing the contact name on the screen, Feng Wanting switched off his phone without a moment's hesitation.

Wait.

He wanted to see just what Pei Yang planned to do.

Half an hour later, Pei Yang emerged freshly washed from the bathroom, faint steam rising from his fair, soft skin. He pulled his bathrobe closer around himself and sat down opposite Feng Wanting, drying his hair with one hand and holding red wine in the other.

There wasn't a trace of secret delight on his face, nor any surprise that Feng Wanting really hadn't left, as though he had known all along that Feng Wanting would stay.

He picked up two wineglasses, the vivid red liquid swirling at their bases.

"Try some, Mr. Feng." Pei Yang pushed a glass toward him, then slipped out the bright red tip of his tongue, seemingly casually, and ran it around his lips.

Feng Wanting's thin lips curved slightly. Swirling his wine, he stared straight at Pei Yang, his low, resonant voice taking on a distinctly teasing edge. "You seem to know you're beautiful, and you're very good at using your looks."

Pei Yang's pouring slowed for a beat. For an instant, embarrassment at being seen through flashed in his eyes, and his voice cooled. "I wouldn't say I'm good at it. I just wanted you to stay."

Feng Wanting tilted his head.

"I'm fucking pissed." Pei Yang tightened his lips, a shadow settling over his beautiful face. "But I'm not going to scream, throw a hysterical fit, or drink myself into oblivion. That's too stupid."

Feng Wanting gave a soft "Oh." "You wanted me to stay so you could take your frustration out on me?"

"Mr. Feng." Pei Yang interrupted him, extending one long leg from beneath his bathrobe.

His toes landed at the top of Feng Wanting's thigh and began to move restlessly. "Anyone can tell you're from high society, Mr. Feng. Since your family arranged your engagement, I assume your fiancée comes from a well-off family?"

Feng Wanting leaned forward slightly and took a sip of his wine, as though to conceal something.

Free things always had a certain cheapness to them. The wine wasn't good. He set it down and caught Pei Yang's restless ankle.

"She does," Feng Wanting answered.

The warmth of his palm spread through Pei Yang's ankle and into his whole body. Pei Yang tilted his neck back in pleasure, his eyes narrowing. "Then I think I know why he betrayed me."

"I can't afford a Porsche."

Maybe it was for the Porsche, maybe he'd grown tired of him, or maybe the novelty had worn off. Song Yixiao had once loved him enough to give up his life. When exactly had that changed?

Pei Yang didn't want to dwell on it. He wiped away the tears spilling uncontrollably from the corners of his eyes, instantly changed his expression, and asked, "What about you, Mr. Feng?"

"Is your fiancée blind? Is there something wrong with her head? With a fiancé like you, she still keeps a pretty boy on the side?"

If the tears in Pei Yang's eyes hadn't given him away, Feng Wanting truly wouldn't have noticed his grief. So all this time, he had just been putting on a brave face.

He took another sip of the unpleasant wine and asked calmly, "'A fiancé like me'? What kind is that?"

"...Ha." Pei Yang withdrew his leg, his lips curling in an unreadable smile. He got up, sat beside Feng Wanting, and slid an arm around his waist. "There's not a single thing about you that doesn't measure up to Song Yixiao."

"There is one thing." Feng Wanting turned his face, casting a sidelong glance at Pei Yang's finely shaped nose.

"What?" Pei Yang asked.

"A very important thing," Feng Wanting said. "I'm sexually frigid."

"..."

I'm sexually frigid.

Those words made Pei Yang feel that everything he'd done had become a fucking joke.

He stared at Feng Wanting in disbelief.

So that was why his fiancée had cheated. Her fiancé might be handsome and well-built, but he couldn't get it up.

Pei Yang rubbed the outer end of his eyebrow and repeated, as though seeking confirmation, "Sexually frigid?"

"Don't look at me like that," Feng Wanting said. "I'm sexually frigid, not impotent."

"What's the difference?" The corner of Pei Yang's mouth twitched. "Either way, you can't do it."

"So you wanted me to stay because you wanted to have sex with me?" Feng Wanting asked bluntly.

"Are you really going to take this lying down?" Pei Yang brushed aside the hair over his forehead and crossed his legs. "Why does he get to have fun while I'm stuck here miserably wondering why I was betrayed?"

"I already explained that my fiancée and I aren't close. I don't care who she sleeps with or kisses," Feng Wanting said. "Besides, she won't be my fiancée for much longer. We're in different states of mind, so I can't relate. If you need an outlet, hire a male escort."

Feng Wanting caught Pei Yang's hand at his waist, flung it aside, and stood.

"Wait." Pei Yang refused to give up. Quick as a flash, he grabbed Feng Wanting's impeccably knotted tie, his gaze and voice both enticing hooks. "There's no such thing as sexually frigid. You just haven't met someone to your taste."

"You're very confident," Feng Wanting said.

"Want to try?" Pei Yang tugged hard and brought his lips up to meet his.

Their lips touched, and Feng Wanting went rigid. The man a head shorter than him wrapped his arms around his neck, tentatively slipping his tongue between his lips.

His mind went blank. Afterward, Feng Wanting could no longer remember the details of how they had kissed their way onto the sofa.

Pei Yang seized the opportunity to turn over and straddle Feng Wanting's hips. Breathless, he bent down and slipped the phone out of Feng Wanting's suit pocket.

Lying on his back, Feng Wanting watched as Pei Yang put his SIM card into his own phone and sent someone a text.

The supposedly "sexually frigid" Feng Wanting couldn't stand Pei Yang's divided attention. He squeezed his smooth waist with a large hand and said irritably, "Can you focus?"

Pei Yang smiled and turned the phone around for Feng Wanting to see.

On the text message screen, a message had been successfully sent: [Let's break up.]

Feng Wanting stared at the screen for a moment. Then, as though waking from a dream, he gripped Pei Yang's slender neck and pressed him down into the sofa.

The next day, sunlight spilled over the foot of the bed. Exhausted all over, Pei Yang opened his eyes and hauled himself up in the large bed.

"Hiss..."

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt so much... It fucking hurt.

Sexually frigid? More like a sex maniac!

Feng Wanting, who had claimed to be "sexually frigid," lay naked on the bed. The marks scattered over his collarbones and neck made the intensity of the previous night obvious at a glance.

Pei Yang pressed his lips together and began getting dressed, guilt gnawing at him.

Shit.

I'd been so angry last night that I'd acted on impulse.

I'd slept with a man I'd only met once! Fuck, how was what I was doing now any different from that scumbag Song Yixiao!? Sure, I'd wanted revenge, but... but thinking about it now that I'd come to my senses, it was so fucking childish.

After putting on fresh underwear, Pei Yang rolled off the bed and tiptoed to the Laundry Room to retrieve the clothes he'd tossed in there the night before.

He didn't even dare put his shoes on for fear of waking Feng Wanting. Dragging his exhausted legs, Pei Yang carried his shoes toward the door like a thief.

With the door halfway open, he remembered something and took the only stack of cash he had out of his briefcase-eight hundred yuan.

Pei Yang had withdrawn the money yesterday morning, intending to use it to order Song Yixiao a birthday cake. His twenty-fourth birthday was the day after tomorrow.

But now there was no need for it.

Pei Yang doubled back and left it on the nightstand.

I should cover some of the room cost... whatever I can. Otherwise, Feng Wanting seems a little pitiful. After all, he'd worked so... hard... all night...

Sneaking a glance at Feng Wanting's sleeping face, Pei Yang let out a breath and successfully escaped the hotel.