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“I don’t know what to do with you: worship at your feet for being so damn strong or slap you across the face because you’re a fucking idiot.”
Whoa.I put my hands up in defense, feeling like he actually did hit me. It’s probably because I know I should do it and give in to my wildest dreams.
But I also know I can’t.
“I guess that’s fair,” I say, finally finding my words. “Please, go and tell him before it’s too late.”
“Tell him what?” A low, masculine voice rumbles through the office, and my pussy clenches instinctively.
David.
Fuck. His voice alone melts my panties off. He folds his arms and leans against the door frame.
I lose my breath, consuming the vision of him. Everything about him is so damn erotic.
Charles clears his throat and moves out of our view, and I cross my arms, mimicking his stance.
“I won’t be going to the gala tonight. Take back the clothes,” I blurt out.
His gaze gradually scrolls up and down my body, and I feel my ache for him intensify.
It’s so not fair how fucking hot he is.
“You’ll be coming with me, love. Accept the dress as a replacement for yesterday’s, though I can’t promise I won’t ruin this one.”
He winks and leaves.
