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You Hit My Heart by Kylie Stanford

Chapter 1271
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Joyce will believe it, though dazed, but stares at him warily.

Luther was not kind enough to pull her pants down smoothly. Then he took out a set of pajamas from the bed and changed her into

them. What did she take him for? He was horny, but not so much that he was thinking about making love to her when she was like

this.

Joyce was a little confused from the burn and fell into his arms, eyes closed.

About another fifteen minutes passed.

The nurse dispensed the medication and pushed the infusion cart in.

"Hit the left hand or the right hand?" The nurse asked.

Luther gently stroked Joyce's cheek, her face scarlet, like dyed with two hues of red, extraordinarily beautiful.

"Hit the left hand." He lifted her left sleeve, revealing her long, slender, lotus root arm.

As if feeling cold.

Joyce woke up again and opened her eyes to see the nurse standing in front of the bed, holding a very thick IV needle in her

phone.

Her face went white, "No, | don't want an infusion. | want to go home."

She was so burned that she was confused and becmore capricious, struggling to get up.

Play up like a child and hang on to his whole body.

Luther struggled to hold her down, barely able to wrap his arms around her, she was picking at him like an octopus, just to avoid

the shot. At this moment, he had a deep sense of powerlessness.

It turns out that Joyce is the cutest when she is drunk. The other is when she is sick and feverish.

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"Ahem." The nurse stood by, a little embarrassed.

Had to look away.

The picture is somewhat less than childish.

In fact, she has recognized the two people in front of her, the woman is precisely the Major General Joyce in tonight's press

conference, and the man, naturally, is the famous richest Luther.

| didn't expect that Joyce's contrast would be so great in front of the stage and under the mirror. No matter how powerful a strong

woman is, when she is sick, in front of a man, she is like a child.

"Be good, you need a shot, you're burning up too much." He coaxed patiently.

"Don't." She peeled against him capriciously, her arms wrapped tightly around him, her voice begging, "Don't you want to kiss me?

I'll let you kissonce. No, two times is fine. Don't you givean injection, okay?"

Luther, "..."

It was his turn to be embarrassed.

The nurse was still standing at her heels as she babbled.

Is this the kind of thing you can bargain for?

Suddenly, without warning, Joyce raised her head, her right hand pulled down his neck, and her hot lips, directly over his thin lips.

It was so fast that he didn't have tto react.

The hot temperature, so hot that even his cheeks rose in temperature with it.

In order to avoid the injection, she even took the initiative to kiss him, she is also no one.

Although he was happy for her to take the initiative, ...

After all, there was a nurse standing next to it!!!

He kissed her back gently, saw the right moment, grabbed her left arm and handed it to the nurse.

The nurse understood, blushed, tried to avoid looking at their aromatic images, grabbed Joyce's hand, fast and accurate, stuck the

IV needle in, fixed the bandage, and finished in one go.

Feeling the sting, Joyce frowned and let out a soft muffled grunt, only to be swallowed up by Luther's gradually deepening

passionate kiss.

The nurse's cheeks rolled as she hooked up Joyce's water and rushed out of the VIP holding room.

She is not married yet, such a restrictive picture truly can not look down.

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