Try Touching My Wife

When An Qiye arrived at the military district office, Young Master He was fast asleep, a report covering his head and his long, straight legs crossed on top of the desk. The breeze blew in through the open window, rustling the pages and occasionally revealing the pale face beneath, faintly flushed.

“Tsk, tsk… Sleeping like a baby.” No wonder he’d called ten or twenty times and the brat hadn’t answered! An Qiye clicked his tongue and walked over, reaching to take the report off his face. But the other man was faster. The instant An Qiye’s hand reached him, he sprang up and used a quick grappling move to turn the tables, pinning him firmly in place.

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