Page 59 of Bound By My Father's Best Friend

“Enough,” I growled again, grabbing her hand.

If she wanted to constantly demean herself, I would force her to tell me what she loved about herself. I would force her to rip away all her insecurities and just be present with me. Happy. At fucking peace with herself.

I didn’t care how long it’d take. I didn’t care what happened between us.

All I wanted was for her to love herself and to see how intelligent she really was.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

HEATHER

Hector satin a maroon-cushioned chair in the corner of the room at Radiant, leaning back and watching me carefully. His eyes were even darker than usual under the dim light, his stubble peppered with gray. “Take off your shirt for me.”

As if there were people watching us, I looked around the room. We were alone in one of the private glass rooms, but nerves still pricked at my stomach. Hector had seen me naked countless times, but now, he was asking me to strip for him!

How was this going to make me feel better about myself? He had been mumbling something like that since we’d snuck out of the office together without Dad noticing. And yet every time I’d asked him, he’d just kept on saying that I’d see.

But I wasn’t seeing anything!

“Take. Off. Your. Shirt.”

After swallowing hard, I unbuttoned the first button on my shirt. Then the next. And the next. “Wouldn’t you rather take my clothes off for me?” I asked because I felt anything but sexy, fumbling with the buttons.

“No.”

Once I popped off the last button, the shirt slipped down my shoulders. It dropped at my feet, leaving me standing in my skirt, shoes, and lacy bra.

I reached around my body to unclip my bra next, but Hector said, “No.”

“You don’t want me to strip for you?” I asked.

“Hand me the shirt.”

I picked up the shirt from the ground and gave it to him, but before I could release my hand, he wrapped his hand around mine.

“Now,” he said, voice quieter and softer than it usually was, “tell me what you love about yourself.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

“Tell me what you love about yourself.”

I opened and closed my mouth a handful of times, nothing coming out. What did I love about myself? Why was he asking me this now—when I felt the least bit sexy, stripping for him in a completely silent room?!

“Heather,” he said, “now.”

The first word that came to my mouth wasnothing, but I kept my lips sealed.

“I …” I started, heart pounding. “I like the way I look after I shower in the morning.”

He released my hand and laid the shirt on his lap. “Next piece.”

Is he going to make me do this with every piece of clothing?!

Once I tugged off the next piece of clothing, I handed it to him and stayed quiet, desperately trying to rake my brain for something that I liked about myself, something that I was proud of, or something that made me smile.

But … I came up with nothing.

“Heather,” Hector warned, his hand wrapping around mine once more, “tell me.”

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