MY HUSBAND SOLD ME TO HIS BOSS.
But the instant Jinhai’s gaze shifted and landed on me, Zihan bowed deeply, murmured something respectful, and quietly slipped out of the suite, leaving us alone.
I should have kept walking. Instead, I stopped, unable to look away.
God, he was breathtaking.
Jinhai wore nothing but a pair of black shorts that hung low on his narrow hips, the waistband riding just below the sharp V of his obliques.
His feet were bare. His body was on full display in the morning light. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, the faint ridges of his abs, the deep cuts along his torso, the way his obliques framed that tempting trail of dark hair disappearing into his shorts.