Lena
Victor’s hand was already on my thigh under the table when Adam’s phone buzzed.
“Work,” my fiancé said, frowning at the screen. He stood, kissed my temple, and nodded at his boss. “Five minutes. Don’t let her drink all the good wine.”
He stepped onto the back patio and closed the glass door behind him. The second it latched, Victor’s fingers slid higher.
“Promotion’s his if he wants it,” he said, voice low and calm, like we were still discussing the quarterly numbers. His thumb brushed the edge of my panties through the thin dinner dress. “But I’ve been watching you all night. And I don’t give favors for free.”
My cunt clenched. Sharp. Sudden. I kept my face neutral and reached for my wine. Across the patio, Adam was pacing, phone to his ear, completely unaware that his boss had
