Thorne.
I watched as Mia slipped her top back on, the fabric sliding over her skin like a reluctant curtain falling on a show I wasn’t ready to end.
Then she bent to step into her thong, the lace gliding up her thighs, hugging her curves in a way that made my mouth dry.
A part of me burned for more—wanted to yank it aside, bend her over the desk, and bury myself in her heat until she forgot her own name.
But f**k.
We were still in school, the door unlocked, anyone could barge in with a question or a crisis, catching us in this tangled mess of sweat and secrets.
“I’m guessing you’re done for the day…” I asked, regretting the words the second they left my lips.
I knew I shouldn’t have started anything—she’d been dressing with that look in her eyes, like she had something brewing
