Chapter 620: Hold Her Little Feet

When he arrived, he commanded everyone's attention. Olive felt a barrage of jealous glares from the other girls. Smiling, her bright red lips pouting slightly, she whistled at him again.

Elvis raised his thin lips into a smile. "When a woman whistles at a man, it implies she wants to hook up with him. So, do you want to hook up with me?"

Olive furrowed her brows. "Women only whistle at the best young men."

Elvis asked, "What does that mean?"

Knowing he didn't understand, Olive patiently explained, "You're a duck."

Elvis stretched out slender fingers, lifted her small feet from the water, and held them in his palm. "If I were a duck, you'd never be able to sleep with me," he added.

Olive frowned, speechless. He was a master at flirting; she wondered what he couldn't do. He held her snow-white feet, his fingertips tracing their delicate contours. They were cool and slightly itchy.

Olive tried to pull her feet away. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

Elvis gently held her feet, wiping the water droplets with his shirt. "The water's cold. Don't play in it; come up," he warned. Olive's eyelashes fluttered. He was always kind to women—gentle, gentlemanly, considerate, sympathetic, and generous. A perfect lover, one might say.

Olive forcefully pulled her foot back. "Why should I listen to you? Go away!"

Elvis placed his large hands on the stone beside her, pulling her into an embrace. He kissed her lips. Olive stiffened. He gently but firmly parted her lips, kissing her tenderly and passionately. He particularly enjoyed kissing her, evident in both the frequency and the affection he showed. He truly indulged women in every way.

Olive quickly pushed him away. Elvis didn't force it, releasing her lips and burying his head in her neck to breathe. He was clearly uncomfortable.

Olive vaguely guessed the reason. Looking around, she saw countless pairs of eyes watching them. She felt a particularly jealous and malicious gaze and quickly spotted Tiffany.

Tiffany had arrived, her jealous stare fixed on Olive as if she wanted to devour her. From her vantage point, she saw Elvis pressed against Olive's slender body, their kiss lingering. Tiffany's gaze lingered on Elvis. His wet trousers outlined his tall, straight figure. It was a shame such a man wasn't hers. She wished she were Olive, wondering why she hadn't met a man like Elvis. It was hard for any woman to resist him.

Olive's snow-white earlobes flushed. Wanting to address Tiffany, she nudged Elvis. "Let me go, will you?"

Elvis hugged her waist. His hoarse voice said, "Hold on a while; I can't go out like this." He added, "You don't want me to go to Tiffany, do you?"

Olive kicked him. "I'd rather you be surrounded by beautiful women. The Palace of Bliss will die!"

Elvis held her tighter. "Believe in yourself. You can do it alone."

"Get out!" Olive struggled against his strong grip.

Elvis frowned, pushing her gently away with her arm. His hoarse voice commanded, "Go up!"

Olive scrambled to her feet and ran away. Watching her go, Elvis turned toward the shore. Tiffany approached, but he walked past her without a glance. Tiffany couldn't believe it, clenching her fist in anger.

Olive returned and prepared a pot of delicious fish soup with chopped green onions. After dinner, her stomach was full.

"Mr. Augustine, I cooked; you wash the dishes," she boldly instructed. Elvis looked unhappy but obediently washed the dishes. Olive felt a surge of pride. Then she spotted a sneaky figure—Tiffany. Remembering Tiffany's jealous glare by the river, Olive knew she recognized her. The question was, from where?

Olive strolled outside, hands behind her back, and looked at Tiffany with clear eyes. "Tiffany, are you here to see Elvis?"

Tiffany snorted but didn't answer.

Olive leaned in and whispered, "What do you think of my brother? He has no money or status, so he can't give you a good life. But he's handsome, has a good body, and should be an excellent bed partner. Is that what you want, Tiffany?"

The innuendo made Tiffany's face flush. "Tiffany, why are you blushing? What unhealthy thoughts are in your mind?" Olive asked with a smile.

Tiffany started to speak, but then she saw Elvis approaching. Immediately, she adopted a tender, shy expression. "Olive, what are you talking about? I don't understand..."