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Chapter 72: Chapter 72: You’d Look Even Better in Women’s Clothes

His gaze was always adoring whenever he looked at Lynn Winslow. Seeing that look as she drew near, she sat astride Ian Sterling’s lap, swept her hair to one side, and lowered her gaze to kiss him.

Ian Sterling caught her lip, nibbling at it slowly in a lingering, reluctant kiss.

Lynn Winslow chuckled, her slender fingers squeezing the back of his neck. Only then did Ian Sterling let her go.

"You always have to bite me." She rested her chin on his shoulder, teasing, "Has it been a while since you’ve had any meat? Feeling the need for a taste?"

"Yes," Ian Sterling said in a low, husky voice. "But not the kind of meat you’re thinking of."

Lynn Winslow understood instantly. She gave his back a hard slap, got off his lap, and glanced at the row of paper bags on the table.

Ian Sterling explained, "I bought these yesterday while I was waiting for you. I asked my sister-in-law; they’re all best-sellers. I don’t know if you’ll like them."

Lynn Winslow gave him a surprised look. She knelt on the carpet and began opening the bags one by one, a smile blooming on her face.

"I love them."

Ian Sterling breathed a sigh of relief. He sat cross-legged on the carpet with her, picked up the Sandalwood Box, and handed it to her. He said softly, "My grandfather had this prepared for me right after I was born. He told me to give it to my future wife. My mom gave it to me when I went home just now."

Lynn Winslow was stunned for a moment. She opened it, and her hands faltered when she saw what was inside.

She asked curiously, "Does your family have a lot of antiques like this? The one you gave me last time was, and so is this."

Ian Sterling said, "The bracelet from last time was something I bought at an auction. It’s more recent. This one is much, much older."

Lynn Winslow blinked and said hesitantly, "Your grandfather wanted you to give this to your future wife. Isn’t it a bit inappropriate for you to give it to me?"

"What’s inappropriate about it? You are my future wife," Ian Sterling scoffed lightly.

Lynn Winslow bit her lip and, for the time being, accepted it.

She told Ian Sterling to get a mirror, then sat on the carpet to try on the lipstick and other cosmetics.

Ian Sterling sat cross-legged beside her, watching. He was merely curious at first, but he soon found himself in Lynn Winslow’s sights.

Lynn Winslow twisted around, took his chin, and turned his face from side to side. After studying him for a moment, she asked, "How about I try putting some makeup on you?"

Ian Sterling opened his mouth to refuse, but Lynn Winslow gave him no chance. She shifted so they were sitting cross-legged and face-to-face, then started with the foundation.

He had a naturally cool, fair complexion and was already pale enough without foundation, but Lynn Winslow, wanting to tease him, still took the powder puff and patted it on his face again and again.

After the eyeshadow and lipstick, Lynn Winslow drew on a long, winged eyeliner and curled his lashes until they were perfectly lifted.

Even Lynn Winslow was stunned by the final result. She held Ian Sterling down, telling him not to move, and picked up her phone to take a close-up of his face.

Ian Sterling grabbed her phone to stop her. Lynn Winslow pressed her red-painted lips together, her expression turning pouty, and Ian Sterling immediately surrendered.

"Go on, take your pictures," he sighed.

Lynn Winslow grew excited again. Not only did she take extreme close-ups, but she also made him pose for them. When she was done, Lynn Winslow said regretfully, "You’d look even better in women’s clothes."

Ian Sterling hugged her, his voice full of mock grievance. "You’re taking this too far."

Lynn Winslow couldn’t stop laughing. She draped herself over him, face-to-face, and scrolled through the photos on her phone. Only after she’d had her fun did she pull Ian Sterling to the bathroom to remove the makeup.

After taking off the makeup, Lynn Winslow applied her own skincare products to his face. Ian Sterling smelled the faint fragrance of the products, his expression a little resistant, but he found he couldn’t refuse.

When she was finished, Lynn Winslow leaned down and gently kissed his eyes.

Ian Sterling remembered the message Kenneth Keller had just sent and asked her, "Kenneth Keller and the others are asking me to go racing at Vespermount. Will you come with me?"

Lynn Winslow lowered her gaze in thought for a moment, then agreed.

So Ian Sterling replied to Kenneth Keller, saying he was going and that he’d be bringing Lynn Winslow, his message clearly meant to show off.

Kenneth Keller wasn’t surprised. He replied with an "OK" emoji and wrote: [We’re already here. Come early and have dinner with us.]

Ian Sterling replied with an "Okay." The two of them hugged for a long while before Lynn Winslow pushed him away.

"I’m going to change into an outfit for our outing." Lynn Winslow placed her fingers on Ian Sterling’s chest as he tried to hug her again, rebuffing his excessive clinginess.

Ian Sterling had no choice but to let go. Like one rewarding an obedient puppy, Lynn Winslow gave his head a gentle pat before turning to leave.

She chose an American-style outfit: a lace bustier with a matching leather skirt, topped with a cropped leather jacket. When Ian Sterling saw her, he was practically seething with jealousy.

Lynn Winslow stood on her toes to hug him and asked softly, "Don’t I look good? I picked this out specifically to match your car."

Before she went to change, Lynn Winslow had asked him what color his car was.

The flattery was transparent, but effective. Sure enough, Ian Sterling’s jealousy vanished. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her neck, where marks from the previous night still lingered.

Ian Sterling had his own dedicated race car and racing suit, both stored at the Vespermount Club, so he didn’t change and drove Lynn Winslow directly to Vespermount.

The racing club at Vespermount had been built by this group of rich young masters, who had poured money into its construction. The equipment was top-of-the-line, and they had even hired a premier chef. The point wasn’t to make money but to ensure these young masters had fun and ate well. It was all about having a good time.

When the two arrived, twilight was deepening. The club’s restaurant had glass observation windows on three sides, one of which faced the parking lot.

It was brightly lit inside, revealing quite a few people, including some provocatively dressed women leaning against men.

Seeing this as she got out of the car, Lynn Winslow raised an eyebrow. Ian Sterling felt a pang of guilt. When his good-for-nothing friends raced, they always had a woman in the passenger seat, and sometimes they’d crudely use these women as betting stakes.

Ian Sterling had never participated, of course. He wouldn’t even let other people touch his car—not even his childhood friends who just wanted to take it for a single lap. The idea of letting a strange woman sit in his passenger seat was completely out of the question.

But birds of a feather flock together, and he was afraid Lynn Winslow would think he was one of them. He hurriedly explained, "I’ve never let them touch my car. Not even the exterior. I swear."

Lynn Winslow was wearing a pair of flat, mid-calf boots today, making her quite a bit shorter than Ian Sterling. She looked up at him, the corner of her eye twitching as her lips curled into a faint smile. "It had better be that way," she said coolly.

The two of them walked into the restaurant together. As the door swung open, the room fell strangely silent. All eyes turned to the couple at the entrance, and an irrepressible, collective sound of awe rippled through the crowd.

They had just heard from Kenneth Keller that Ian Sterling was bringing his girlfriend tonight—the one who’d shattered his heart three years ago, the one he’d pined for ever since, and the one who now, three years later, had him utterly whipped.

They all wanted to see her for themselves, so none of them had gone off to race. Instead, they were all waiting in the restaurant.

Now, seeing her in the flesh, most of them—aside from a small few with complicated feelings—couldn’t help but marvel. ’So this is the woman who could make a golden boy like him so completely whipped.’

’If it were me, I’d be whipped too!’

Ian Sterling paid them no mind. He led Lynn Winslow by the hand to Kenneth Keller’s table and made the introductions. "You’ve met these guys before, but you probably haven’t met this one."

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