Semua Bab The Night Before I Knew Him: Bab 61 - Bab 70

JuneTears blurs my vision as I step out of Chris’s house, the evening air sharp against my wet cheeks. His words circles like vultures, tearing into me, echoing louder than the traffic around me:~I… I spiked your drink last night~~ I wanted to sleep with you for a bet we made at the company~My chest ache. What did I ever do wrong? How did I end up here, fooled into believing I had chosen the right man?The cab door shut behind me, and suddenly the city outside the window is nothing but a smear of lights and shadows. I press my forehead against the cool glass, but it didn’t numb the storm raging inside me.The warnings I had ignored rose like ghosts.Tobias’s question echoing:~Are you sure Chris didn’t spike your drink?~ His hesitation, his guilt—it all made sense now. He knew all about it.And Mr. Grande. His words at the gala night bleed back into my memory:~Don’t have sex with him. Just go home~Had he suspected? Had he seen through Chris when I couldn’t?Shame settle heavy o

June"Mr. Hermes," I hear Mr. Paul say, followed by the soft thud of the door closing."Paul, what do you have for me?" Mr. Grande’s voice answers, slightly out of breath, or maybe I’m imagining it again.I swallow hard, the air thick with the scent of files and paper in this cramped storeroom."Well, about the outcome of the gala—" Mr. Paul begins, but Hermes cuts him off."Save that for later. Anything else?"Oh. So he interrupts other people too. I’m not the only one. Perhaps I was wrong about him. It could be that the way he snapped at me had nothing to do with us sleeping together.My teeth catch my lip, thoughts racing. Maybe there’s still a chance for—"Did you perhaps see Miss Alexander? Sarah said she saw her enter your office."Mr. Paul’s question snaps me back to reality. My breath hitches, and I step back, as if he could somehow see me through the door. Is Mr. Grande going to tell him I’m in here? How bad would that look? I should just say I came to get some files and—"Y

June"Are you high or something?" Mr. Grande asks flatly.My head snaps up. "No," I whisper, shaking quickly. Inside, though, I admit it—I might be high. High on nerves, high on him, and high on my own recklessness.He sits on the bed, studying me like I’m a puzzle he doesn’t want to solve. "Is that how bold you are? Then why hide it all this time as my secretary?""Uhm– I'm the same girl who agreed to spent a night with you, even when I didn't know your name." I keep my lips pressed tight, my expression steady. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I’ll assume I didn’t hear that. If that’s all—you can leave.""No," I blurt, my voice rushing ahead of me. "I thought you wanted to claim my body. That’s what you said in your office. You touched my face—just like back at that dance—""Miss Alexander." His voice snaps like a whip. He’s on his feet now, looming, his dark gaze drilling into mine. "I said I wanted to claim you. But I haven’t acted on it since the moment you walked into

June"Ghk!!!"The store room door creaks open—same way it did a week ago. Déjà vu, except this time it's twisted.This time he’s in that sharp suit, trousers on, belt straining, the thick bulge outlined shameless above his zipper, before I know it, his shirt is gone, showing his bare chest, flexing muscle. His gaze is darker, hungrier, like a shadow made flesh."Go backwards," his voice rumbles, as usual deep.My chest heaves, as I stumble back into the stuffy little store room, feeling my own pulse go thump-thump-thumping in my ears.Clnk. The door slams shut behind us.I can’t move. My back brushes the shelves, and my breath comes in sharp bursts—hahh, hahh, hahh—and he stalks closer, each step heavy, and, predatory.I whisper, "You’re here again." but he doesn’t answer, instead he just grabs my chin, tilts my head up, and I’m trapped in that stare.Heat floods instead my aching pussy, dizzy and sharp, and when his mouth crashes to my throat—smckk—"Ohh–Mr. Gran–" I moan helplessly.

~Hermes~The elevator doors close behind me, and I grunt low, sharp, like I’ve just been punched in the stomach. My cock’s still throbbing, hard and angry, straining against the seam of my trousers."Fuck," I mutter, shoving a hand in my pocket as I stride down the hall. Heads turn, people murmur their greetings, but I don’t hear a fucking word, all I feel is her, her perfume still clinging to me, her soft gasp when I pinned her, the way her cunt probably clenched under that skirt just from me brushing her nipple.I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. That was unprofessional and reckless. I didn't mean to lose control, but the second she opened her mouth in that elevator, all polite and nervous—"How was your trip, Mr. Grande?"—I wanted to ruin her.I sink into my chair, slam a hand against the desk. My jaw aches from clenching too hard.Maybe it’s because I fucked half my way through that damn business trip. Same hotel bed, but nameless bodies, women who spread their legs the second