His Fake Fiancee
All the while, she wears a dubious grin, with mischief gleaming behind her eyes.
"And this one, Mr. Bass?"
I say nothing, barely registering her words. I can only stare, dumbfounded, at the goddess in my living room.
"I think he needs a closer look, darling."
Hannah prowls to me like a tantalizing panther, the leather shifting with her movements, and every bone in my entire fucking body screams at me to claim her. To fuck her raw against the dining table until she cries so loud there'd be no doubt to any of my staff, or to this whole building, that she belongs to me.