Touch Me, Daddy
Can’t wait.
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I bring up the Ignis website on my laptop later that night in bed, clicking idly through the tabs. I’ve read every single word a hundred times, but this is my routine now. It soothes me.
Mostly, though, I’m killing time until I click to the page about the boss. Ansel Carson frowns from his profile photo, so grouchy and stern even on his own website. His eyes pierce through the screen, and I shift against the bed sheets, cheeks warming. The laptop cooks against my lap.