Chapter 3

My fingers trembled against the polished wood, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The encounter with Richard still burned under my skin, a slow, simmering heat that refuses to fade.

The way his gaze had traced my body when he thought I wasn't looking, the way his thumb had brushed against my wrist just a second too long when he handed me that last glass of whiskey. Fuck.

I press my forehead against the door, my cunt hammering between my thighs. This is wrong. This is so ...