Yingyu Chi rested her head against the bare skin of her brother-in-law’s neck. Jianglai felt the scorching heat radiating from her touch—a heat that seared her heart, burning through defenses already paper-thin.
Her breath ghosted over Jianglai’s neck, raising tiny goosebumps that swelled into tingling waves. The sensation slithered down her spine, electrifying every cell until her whole body hummed with raw sensitivity.
"Stop acting like a child," Jianglai murmured, fingers gently threading through Yingyu’s hair. Yet her touch softened as she felt the unnatural fever in the girl’s body. *Is she sick?*
Worry for her family crushed Jianglai’s flickering fantasies instantly. She stood, guiding Yingyu firmly to the sofa. The girl’s porcelain skin flushed pink; each breath hitched with faint, needy whimpers.
Jianglai’s palm brushed Yingyu’s forehead. *It wasn’t this hot when I washed my face earlier.* Her fingers traced the girl’s cheek, neck, even the nape—every inch burning.
*Definitely a fever.* Jianglai rushed to find the medicine kit. *Thermometer first. If it’s bad, we’ll take a cab to the hospital.* Guilt twisted her gut. *Did she wait outside in the cold wind for me?*
She never knew Yingyu’s heat came not from chill, but from a craving that smoldered deep in her chest—a fire no water could quench.
Yingyu’s gaze clung to Jianglai’s back, tender and aching. Her throat tightened. "Brother-in-law…" Her voice dripped like warm honey, thick enough to steal souls.
She snapped back to herself, blinking away the haze. *I called her that again.* She smoothed her expression, forcing calm. "The thermometer’s in the cabinet beside the fridge. Bottom shelf."
*Why did I lose control first?* Yingyu’s jaw clenched. *I should’ve just let go earlier. Now this ache… it’s torture.*
*No one would know.* The thought slithered in. *Just us in this room. She’d never tell—too proud.*
Yingyu loved Jianglai down to her bones. She’d always hidden her true self behind perfection, terrified to shatter their fragile bond. Bold with everyone else, she shrank before her sister’s husband. Courage felt pointless when rejection was inevitable. Years of swallowed longing choked her.
But the changes in Jianglai had ignited a wildfire, burning away old barriers.
Yingyu rose unsteadily. As Jianglai approached with the thermometer, she let tears well in her eyes. Her hips swayed gently as she melted into Jianglai’s arms.
Jianglai caught her—this trembling girl whose face glowed crimson, whose scent wrapped around her like perfume. Yingyu’s narrow shoulders felt like they might dissolve against her chest.
Thirty years old, untouched by intimacy, Yingyu radiated ripe sweetness—a peach begging to be tasted.
"Brother-in-law," she whispered, a self-mocking laugh in her voice. Her fingers lifted Jianglai’s cool hand. "Tonight… I want to sleep with you."
——
——
Jianglai agreed easily, chalking it up to feverish vulnerability. Before bed, she made Yingyu a packet of cold medicine. They slipped under the same blanket.
Lying beside her felt ordinary—except for the heat and fragrance radiating from the woman pressed against her. The sofa had been softer, but this… this was different.
"I can’t sleep…" Yingyu murmured.
Jianglai turned slightly. Déjà vu struck her—like decades ago, when her wife lay beside her. Moonlight blurred Yingyu’s features, stirring ghosts. She bit her lip, forcing her gaze to stay.
"I always hug a pillow when I sleep," Yingyu whispered, her voice melting into the dark. She didn’t realize how her words scraped against Jianglai’s nerves, how her body made Jianglai’s pulse roar. "But you’re using mine." A pause. Soft, deliberate. "Could I… borrow your arm instead?"
