On the way, James was in unbearable pain.
He held Shirley Taylor tightly, burying his face in her neck and taking a sharp breath.
The girl's scent intensified his agony, causing him to inhale sharply again.
The pure fragrance of a young girl was vastly different from the perfume of a mature woman.
It was like the pristine elegance of gardenias after the rain or the crisp scent of cedar lingering in the air.
James took several deep breaths, feeling lightheaded, and couldn't help but lean against her chest.
Shirley Taylor, wholly concerned about his condition, didn't notice anything amiss.
She even shifted slightly to make it easier for him to lean on her.
Her half-crouched posture, with her hips slightly raised, was incredibly alluring.
James's mind was consumed with the thought of taking her right then and there.
But this was a crucial moment, and exposing his act could jeopardize his plans for the night.
He suppressed his desires and slowly released her, leaning back into the seat.
"Brother, are you feeling better?" Shirley Taylor asked anxiously.
"Yeah, I'm recovering, thanks to you," James replied weakly, offering her a faint smile.
"If you have a bad stomach, why did you eat spicy food?" Shirley Taylor chided.
"I usually don't, but I was so happy to see you today that I couldn't resist,"
James's words touched Shirley Taylor, making her feel both tender and pleased. She dabbed his mouth with a tissue and softly said,
"Don't eat those things anymore. Focus on getting better."
James placed his hand over hers, which was resting on his stomach, and said with a smile,
"It's okay to indulge occasionally. It's not a serious problem."
"All serious illnesses start with small problems, especially with the stomach. It needs check-ups and care," Shirley Taylor insisted.
James stroked her hair, appeased,
"Alright, will you accompany me to the hospital for a check-up?"
"Yes," Shirley Taylor nodded.
"Shirley is so kind. I love being with you," James said with a smile.
Shirley Taylor blushed, then realized their close proximity and the intimacy of their posture.
She shyly lowered her head, her gaze darting around.
The car drove for about twenty minutes.
Because Shirley Taylor wasn't Tailsa, nothing happened between them in the car.
Arriving at the hospital, James, leaning on Shirley Taylor for support, found his leg inexplicably starting to limp as well.
She was so soft and fragrant.
His arm was tightly embraced by her innocent hold,
and the sensation was heavenly, making him reluctant to let go.
What was normally a single step now took three.
Finally, they registered for the emergency room and had a blood test done.
After receiving the results, they returned to the doctor.
"You have chronic gastritis caused by Helicobacter pylori. It's quite troublesome and requires bed rest. I recommend hospitalization," the doctor said gravely, frowning.
Shirley Taylor's face paled at the doctor's serious expression. She hadn't realized James's condition was so severe that he needed to be hospitalized.
James calmly said, "No need, I know my condition is a hassle. Just prescribe me some Stazch."
The doctor glanced at the affluent young man.
Although Stazch wasn't a prescription drug, he nodded slowly and wrote the prescription,
adding the same advice he gave a hundred times each day:
"Strictly avoid spicy, greasy, and cold foods. No smoking or alcohol."
Shirley Taylor thanked him profusely, then helped the still-weak James back to the car.
Seeing him looking so frail,
Shirley Taylor worriedly asked, "Does it still hurt?"
"It doesn't hurt anymore after taking the medicine, but I feel weak," James managed a weak smile.
"Don't eat those foods again," Shirley Taylor advised.
"Got it,"
James looked at her concerned expression, and said apologetically, "I'm sorry for making you late for school."
"It's okay, as long as you're alright," Shirley Taylor replied softly.
"Stay with me at the hotel tonight and take care of me. I promise I won't touch you,"
James revealed his true intentions.
Shirley Taylor, still worried about James's health and hearing that he needed her care, agreed without much thought.
But as they arrived at the hotel, James suddenly started walking briskly, showing no signs of needing assistance, and his grip on her hand was firm.
Shirley Taylor began to feel that something was off.
She should have been back in her dorm, but instead, she was inexplicably at a hotel.
Her guard went up, and she finally realized what was happening.
She had fallen into a trap.
In reality, most adult girls, when sober, would instantly become aware of the situation when entering a hotel with a man.
All the elaborate lies and affectionate tactics would become meaningless.
They would know exactly what they were about to face.
Shirley Taylor was no different.
Her hands and feet were now cold with fear, her eyelashes trembling.
She stiffly followed James into the hotel.
James had long booked the Cloud Suite at the W Hotel on the Bund.
It cost 40,000 dollars a night.
This was a trendy hotel, popular among influencers, and always fully booked.
His room was on the top floor.
The Cloud Suite had a two-story loft design with a 270-degree curved floor-to-ceiling window.
The view was breathtaking, reminiscent of a modern Miami night, overlooking the unobstructed Oriental Pearl Tower.
He chose this hotel over the more expensive Amanyangyun because the W Hotel had a rotating king-size bed.
Upon entering, one could see four large black petal-like structures extending from the ceiling, suspending the three-meter circular bed in mid-air.
Lying on the bed, slowly rotating 360 degrees, imagining the romance of sleeping in the clouds, would surely excite anyone.
There was also a large bathtub facing the panoramic window, already filled with flower petals.
One could bathe while enjoying the magical, bustling night view in the nude.
James eagerly led Shirley Taylor into the room and to the bathtub,
"Darling, you go ahead and take a bath. I promise I won't peek."
Shirley Taylor saw the large bed, and her mind went blank.
She was completely unprepared and overwhelmed, unsure of what to do. She pleaded with James,
"Brother, I'm scared..."
"What's there to be scared of about taking a bath? Do you want me to help you?" James asked mischievously.
"C-Can we not do this?" Shirley Taylor's eyes were filled with entreaty.
"Relax, I said I wouldn't touch you, and I won't. Sweetheart, don't be afraid," James coaxed gently.
His words gave Shirley Taylor a sliver of courage.
She closed the bathroom door, took a bath amidst her racing thoughts, and emerged wrapped in a towel.
The white towel barely concealed her alluring figure.
James, suppressing his impatience, took a quick shower and then led her to bed.
After turning off the lights, James waited a few minutes before his hands began to roam.
"My stomach hurts, rub it for me."
"Let's just cuddle, it's okay."
"I'll just touch a little, don't be scared."
"I'll just..."
The little bunny, who had been lying there motionless, suddenly tensed up.
As James pounced, she reacted like a startled animal, kicking him away.
Then, clutching the fallen towel, she fled into the bathroom,
locking the door and refusing to open it, no matter how hard James knocked.