A Deal with the Billionaire's Heir
I just witness him putting his shirt on, his muscular arms captivating my liking.
He then steps forward and then puts his arms around my waist from behind. He kisses my neck, and I can't help but just silently feel good over his touch. "You're blushing, Stella," he says, getting me out of my delusions.
"No, I'm not," I deny, even though he's right. I look in the mirror and notice red spreading across my cheeks. I look down to get away from his teasing, but instead, something catches my attention — he has a tattoo on the side of his wrist. It's written in the Cyrillic alphabet, I'm sure of that since he's of Russian descent. My hand moves faster than my brain thinks, so I now see myself touch
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