His hand on my stomach pushes down half an inch. Not enough to be anything, but just enough to be everything. “Who were you wearing those red panties for, Jillian? For me?”
His brow curves upward. “Liar.”
“I wear whatever I want. It has nothing to do with you.”
“No?” he says again. “Well, then I guess it was just my luck. That didn’t stop me from getting off, of course. I saw your ass in red and it was like all the blood in my body rushed straight to my c**k. You’ve felt it—you know how hard it gets for you, little fox.” His thumb dips just inside the waist of my jeans and strokes the frilly edge of today’s black thong. “I was pumping and moaning your name. Right in this office, actually. I came for you, and I think, deep down, you knew it. You felt it, right… about… here.”
On here, hi
