Page 125 of Their Arrangement
And I didn’t know how to quiet it.
I gripped the desk edge.
Felt my pulse beat in my palm.
And then?—
I felt him.
Wolfe.
Still.
Across the floor.
Watching. Like gravity.
Like want.
Like he was already imagining how I'd fall.
His eyes tracked from my face to my throat. Down the slope of my shoulder to where the sheer blouse revealed the outline of black lace underneath.
Lower.
To the soft curve of the corset pressing from beneath the silk. To the tight seam of the pencil skirt where my thighs disappeared behind the desk.
His jaw ticked.
Just once.
But it was enough.
My breath hitched. My pulse stuttered. My core clenched.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t move. Didn’t need to. Because that look? That unblinking, unapologetic, slow-burn drag of hisgaze? It was the most intimate thing I’d ever experienced without being touched.
It said:I see you.
I own you.
And you wanted this.
And then he turned.
Walked away.
Leaving me shaking.
Trembling.
So close to falling apart I had to bite the inside of my cheek just to keep still.
I shifted.
Slow.
Silk slid. Lace dragged. Heat bloomed.
