"Hey, you're not doing this right..."
Hearing Diliya's words, Jiang Hai took another step back, his shoulders pressing against the door. It was the first time he'd ever felt so passive—and for something so inexplicable.
"I'm already nineteen. I became an adult last year, so I don't need you to tell me what's right or wrong. Feel them? Don't you like it?"
Diliya smirked at Jiang Hai's flustered expression. She'd heard before that Easterners were more reserved than Westerners, but Jiang Hai seemed especially traditional. Before he could react, she stepped forward, grabbed his hands, and placed them where they definitely shouldn't be. At the same time, her own hands wandered somewhere equally inappropriate.
"Wow, this shape… no way..." The moment she touched him, she couldn't help but gasp.
"Don't—" Jiang Hai tried to stop her, but Diliya was already pulling down his pants. For the first time, he regretted wearing something without a belt. The sudden chill made him realize—she'd seen everything.
Her eyes widened at the sight of him. A soft swallow, and then—before he could resist—she dropped to her knees.
"Hiss…" The sensation sent a sharp breath through his teeth.
And just like that, the primal urge from the Dragon Ball surged, threatening to consume him.
Jiang Hai had never been a man who struggled with self-control—until the Dragon Ball entered his life. Now, his desires burned hotter, harder to ignore. Maybe it was the only side effect of the artifact.
If Diliya and Kelly had just talked to him, he might've resisted. Like the other night, when their hints had been obvious but he'd still walked away.
But this? This was different.
The moment she took the initiative, his restraint shattered.
He was still conscious, still aware—but the hunger was too strong.
Three minutes in, Diliya felt his hips move. She grinned.
Ten minutes later, she realized he wasn't slowing down.
"I—I can't anymore. My mouth is sore." She pushed him back, panting, but Jiang Hai wasn't done.
His mind was clear enough to know she was telling the truth—but his body had other plans.
With a rough pull, he yanked her up, spun her toward the wall, and—
"Wow, too—too deep! Aren't you going to wear a—?"
"You afraid of getting sick?" he cut in, pausing.
"Not me. A rich guy like you? You're clean. But what if I get pregnant? How do I explain a half-Asian baby? I have a boyfriend..."
Jiang Hai ignored her and kept moving.
"It'll be fine," he muttered.
"Then finish in my mouth. I like that." She shot him a look, voice dripping with mischief.
Some things can't be described in detail.
But passion has its own rhythm, its own urgency.
Time warps in moments like these—sometimes dragging, sometimes vanishing in a blink.
An hour later, Jiang Hai finally pulled back, his breath ragged. Diliya, exhausted, slumped to the floor, wiping her lips with the back of her hand before licking them clean.
"You okay?" he asked, guilt creeping in now that sanity had returned.
She grinned weakly, raising a thumb. "Best. Ever. Jiang Hai, you're a perfect lover."
He didn't know how to respond.
"Diliya… you have a boyfriend. Your dad knows me. I can't give you anything—well, except money if you need—"
She burst out laughing. "Jiang, you're adorable. This didn't cost you a thing. This is America. It's normal. If you want to fit in here, you've gotta understand us."
She hauled herself onto his lap, her chest pressing against his chin.
"Friends hook up sometimes. Men need it. Women too. As long as no one's getting hurt, who cares? We're way tamer than the '80s. Back then, people went wild—cousins, siblings, everyone."
Jiang Hai stared. What kind of logic is this?
"Relax," she murmured, hugging his head. "Just let me stay a little longer. I'm exhausted."
Then—
Click.
The door unlocked.
Kelly stood there, cheeks flushed, eyes narrowing at the scene. Without a word, she slipped inside, locked the door behind her, and stormed over.
"Diliya. You have a boyfriend," she hissed, yanking the other girl off Jiang Hai.
"Oh, Kelly! I was just testing him for you." Diliya winked. "And let me tell you—he's amazing."
Kelly's gaze dropped to Jiang Hai's still-exposed state. Her jaw tightened.
"If you were 'testing' him for me… then I should try too."
Before Jiang Hai could protest, she straddled him, ripped off her shirt, and crushed her lips against his.
Alcohol. Heat. No escape.
He tried to push her away—but Diliya grabbed his wrists and forced his hands onto Kelly's bare skin.
"Let me help," Diliya purred.
Jiang Hai's control snapped again.
Maybe this was how he'd really fit into their world.
And as a man… he wasn't exactly complaining.
(To be continued...)