Novel & Cerita Touch Me Not Mr·kingsley

She and Raymond had planned my downfall, but just like how a murderer always returned to their crime scene, she wanted to be there in person to watch how I'd react after seeing her succeed. Having been caught sneaking around with Cora, Raymond looked anxious. But when he realized I was only asking a simple question, he figured I didn't see them kissing. He let out a silent breath of relief, but then I suddenly asked, "Raymond, why is your face all red? Were you exercising earlier?" He froze. Just as he was about to fumble for an excuse, a flurry of footsteps echoed outside the door. Mr. Knightley entered the classroom with a group of reporters in tow. The livestream equipment was quickly set

I thought they probably paid their influencers well. "You know Kim. She likes nice things. Her investment banker won't buy the cow either. Not when he can get milk from other cows in town that are younger." I looked up and rolled my eyes. "Please tell me she hasn't told Samantha that this jerk will be her stepfather. Lyndon turned the monitor again, and I saw a picture of Kim, Samantha, and a cool-looking guy in a Saville Row suit walking out of a restaurant. He looked young, cool, and full of himself. I immediately disliked him.

A W******p notification. Devon Kingsley picked up the phone, grateful for the distraction. They have been in contact since the retreat ended—a small but steady tether to the calm they’d both found at the wellness camp. Devon: Hey man, what’s up? I thought you were getting back to Katherine. What’s happening? Kingsley stared at the message for a moment before replying. Kingsley: Nothing happened yet. Still got plans, though. Just taking things slow. Devon’s reply came fast.

The kiss was slow, warm, and intimate, lasting several long seconds right in front of Tom and Emily. When Kingsley finally pulled back, he didn’t even glance at Tom or Emily. He looked only at Sara, his deep, husky voice cutting through the silence like smooth velvet. “Here’s your coffee, baby,” he said calmly, handing her one of the cups. “Shall we go home?” The rich, masculine timbre of his voice sent a visible shiver through Emily, who stared at Kingsley with wide, hungry eyes. Even Tom looked momentarily unsettled by Kingsley’s height, confidence, and complete indifference toward him.

“You two can’t go a single call without clashing, can you?” Kingsley and Betsy had always had a love-hate relationship for no reason but I still find it funny. They had never met before but got to know each other through my video and voice call with him. Kingsley is my childhood friend and the heir to his family’s empire—the second-largest after ours and he’s also a subject of endless gossip: ‘cold-hearted,’ ‘heartbreaker,' 'head tuner' and some even calls him a demon in human form

He takes the plate, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, “We’ll see.” We sit at the table, and for a few blissful seconds, there’s only the sound of forks scraping against plates. But of course, I can’t leave well enough alone. “So,” I say between bites, “about this no touching rule…” He groans. “Not this again.” “I’m just saying—it’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? We’re adults. We can survive the occasional accidental brush of the arm.” “It’s not dramatic,” he says flatly. “It’s simple. No touching means no lines get crossed.”

I forced myself to step lightly, careful not to make a sound that would give me away. The closer I got, the clearer the noises became. It wasn’t just a grunt anymore. It was a deep, frustrated groan. And that slick sound… It was unmistakable. My breath caught in my throat. There was no way. Swallowing hard, I reached the door. It wasn’t locked. My trembling fingers pushed it open just a little, enough for me to see inside. And what I saw almost made my knees buckle. Mr. Kingsley, the man I had been fantasizing about for months, was standing there, his back slightly arched, his head thrown back as his hand worked up and down his thick, glistening cock.

Chris fidgeted nervously in his seat, wondering what Ronald was thinking. Finally, Ronald looked up, his gaze piercing as he locked eyes with Chris. "So, Chris," he said, his voice low and even. "Tell me, do you have any...personal issues that might impact your work here?" Chris's heart skipped a beat as he hesitated, unsure of how to respond. He knew that Ronald was fishing for something, but he wasn't sure what. "I...I don't think so," Chris stammered, trying to sound confident. Ronald's eyes narrowed, his gaze intensifying. "Be honest with me, Chris," he said. "Do you have any financial problems? Any debts that might be a distraction?"

"Not a lot of things, I'm just an observer. You see that man on green, That's Monsieur Luc, he's a school owner. He's currently jobless, his school just got shutdown by the government but he doesn't look anything like that..." "How about his friend? What is his pain?" "That's Trent Grateau, he got divorced and lost custody of his only child to his ex-wife." "That's hard," I commented, Taylor nodded, "it is," "Maybe you should try smoking and getting on a rollerbike too. You might feel better," "No, what would I look like getting on a rollerbike in a suit?" "You'll look just like that," she said, pointing at the crazy-happy men. The sight of men smiling through their sadnesses was moving, com

Perhaps I was too harsh-sounding, but Lauren snapped without thinking, "Keep dreaming!" I raised my phone slightly. "You can refuse to sign, but this recording will end up on the phones of everyone you know." Lauren lunged at me, snatched my phone, and smashed it to the floor with a loud crack. I took a few steps back to keep my distance and said calmly, "I already set up a scheduled email. If I don't cancel it by three in the evening, that recording will be sent to the Mercy Hospital for Women's official site, every major gossip social account, and Jacob."