Page 155 of Their Arrangement
He didn’t leer. Didn’t mock. He just said?—
“Fix your skirt, Cloe. Button your blouse. Come when I call.”
And I nodded.
Because what else could I do?
He didn’t fuck me. Not this time. But I’d never felt more taken in my life.
The corridor was quiet. Not the normal kind. Not the kind filled with heels and phones and muted clicks. This quiet? It pulsed. Pressed against my ribs like a second heartbeat. The kind of silence that watches. That waits.
I stepped out of the bathroom stall on unsteady legs. My corset was relaced—but looser now. Not styled for seduction. Just held. Just enough to keep me upright. My blouse was buttoned to the top. Lipstick wiped.
But the flush hadn’t faded. It burned hot in my cheeks. Lingered on my neck. Licked beneath my blouse like breath.
My skin didn’t feel like mine anymore.
It felt remembered.
Owned.
His hands hadn’t stayed long. But their imprint did.
I didn’t walk fast. Didn’t look around. But I felt them. Eyes.
Royal—leaning against the printer bay—paused mid-sentence.
An intern behind corner glass. Pretending not to watch. Loyal—far end of the floor, folder in hand, knuckles white.
And Wolfe?
Nowhere to be seen.
But present. Like gravity. Like pressure. Like a name humming in the back of my throat. I made it back to my desk. Sat slowly. Carefully. The lace between my thighs was clean. Dry. But still pulsing.
Still aching like I’d been taken apart and leftunfinished. He hadn’t fucked me. He hadn’t even kissed me. But my body didn’t know the difference.
I reached for my mouse. Clicked the screen on. Tried to focus. Failed. The letters blurred. My vision stung.
I blinked.
Breathed.
Once.
Twice.
My phone buzzed. I didn’t look right away. Because I didn’t need to. I already knew. It was him. I clicked into the system. Typed the wrong password.
Twice.
Swore under my breath. Typed again. The screen loaded.
Anotherping. I opened it.
One line.
You’re not hiding it well.
