Rosie’s voice was calm, almost conversational, as if she had simply invited them in for tea instead of standing completely naked in the middle of a penthouse that cost more than Milan’s annual salary.
“Welcome.”
Milan’s feet refused to move for a full three seconds.
The door had already clicked shut behind them. Majid stood to his left, breathing carefully through his nose, eyes fixed somewhere past Rosie’s shoulder as if looking directly at her body might burn him.
But Milan looked, he could not help it.
She was taller than he remembered from the office, or perhaps the absence of heels and clothing simply made every proportion clearer.
The cleft between her thighs was neat, the soft outer lips visible when she shifted her weight.
“Do you like what you are seeing?” she asked.
M
