Locas stood up, but his eyes were fixed on my lips. He looked like he hadn't had enough. "This is Willard's sofa. What a pity. If it were my sofa, you would not have the strength to walk out the door."

Hearing his suggestive words, I sat up. The intimate atmosphere was still there, but it didn't stop me from glaring at him. "You're crazy."

He picked up his jacket. "Your silent follower and admirer is hurt and desperately needs your comfort. I don't want to see you coaxing another ...