MY HUSBAND SOLD ME TO HIS BOSS.
My eyes trailed from her feet, up her long legs, to her waist, and finally to her face, her hair neatly plaited.
How amusing.
I smirked. Nonso had fumbled such beauty, such perfection.
"Fuck!" she gasped, her eyes snapping to mine through the mirror.
She spun around, grabbing a piece of fabric to cover herself. "Can’t you knock?"
I scoffed, leaning against the frame. "You seemed pretty confident seconds ago. Where’s that confident cat now?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she blinked rapidly, clearly caught off guard. "That’s different," she muttered. "I’m not done dressing."