Page 119 of Their Arrangement

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Laid.

One bill at a time.

Like he was offering penance.

Or branding me with currency.

One of his fingers brushed mine.

Ijerked.

Just slightly.

His gaze didn’t shift.

But his nostrils flared—just a little.

And his eyes—they dropped lower.

To my thighs.

To where they were clenched so tight I thought I might snap.

I could smell myself.

The soft, musky sweetness of arousal soaked into lace.

I hated it.

But more than that?

I hated how much I wanted him to notice.

He stepped in.

Closer.

My back hit the edge of the boardroom table.

He didn’t touch me.

But he didn’t need to.

His presence pressed into every breath I took.

“Get yourself something better for tomorrow.”

His voice was soft.

Too soft.

The kind of soft that left bruises.

I nodded.

Couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t even breathe.

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