Goodbye Saintess (by Edelweiss W.S.) novel Chapter 195

Claire giggled, the sound like someone caught red–handed. “Well, then. Time’s–a–wastin‘! We shall now remove your pants as well!”

I took them off and handed them to her, feeling safe that I still had both my boxer shorts and my underwear underneath.

She kept staring at me.

“What do you want now?” I asked, alert.

“Oh, nothing!” she said cautiously, waving her hands in denial.

A beat later, she suddenly added, “Though now that I think about it, we should really press those shorts too, huh?”

Her hands struck again, and her eyes shone with deadly anticipation.

“Holy shit, no! Friends don’t do this to each other, Claire!” I yelped.

“Are you sure? In my experience, friends help one another!” she replied, determined.

“Such as helping them remove their shorts?!” I retorted in shock.

V

“Hold on a sec, ‘bro.‘ You just saw my undergarment! In the name of equivalent exchange, I should be entitled to see your boxers too!”

“W–What?! I didn’t even mean for you to see that!”

“And I didn’t mean to look at your underwear either!” she said before grabbing my boxers and trying to yank them down.

I held onto the waistband with my life. She was strong—and that kind of frightened me.

“Claaaire! Please! Calm down! We are gonna be late at this rateeee! Your grandma, Claire! Think of the old woman and her lonely birthday cake!” I yelled.

I began to suspect she had deliberately hung her bra from my collar just to set me up.

If anyone ever told you that only men could be perverts or set up schemes for their own… amusement, know this: lust and perversions knew no gender. Just look at me now!

Bringing up her grandmother finally worked. After glancing at the time, Claire let go reluctantly. “Fine, fine! But you owe me this, Sebastian!”

I stared at her in bemusement. I owed her?! What happened to the bashful young woman who used to blush over the littlest things?

“We… We’ll see about that some other time. I should really get ready!” I declared, snatching up my clothes and scurrying back into my room to change.

When I emerged, she looked at me admiringly. “Time to go, Prince Charming.”

1/2

On the way, Claire told me about her family.

Her parents had divorced many years ago. The unit we were staying in was one of the assets her mother had secured as part of the settlement.

Patricia, her mother, had started her own small business as a landlady, renting out several properties for steady income and a comfortable life.

Her father was the director of the McKay Group.

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