The next few days were torture.
Rufus acted like nothing happened. He drove me to the salon, to lunch with friends, to the mall—always silent, always watching. But I caught him looking. When I bent over to pick something up, his eyes lingered on my ass. When I crossed my legs in the car, he gripped the steering wheel tighter.
I started teasing him on purpose.
Tiny silk robes in the morning, barely tied, showing the curve of my breasts and the smooth skin of my thighs. I’d “accidentally” brush my body against his arm when he opened the door. At night, I’d whisper things when no one else was around.
“Does it hurt, Rufus? Staying so hard for me all day?”
He never answered. Just gave me that dark stare that made my p***y clench.
One stormy night, the rain came down hard. Thunder shook th
