Finnegan
Had she been crying?
My assistant's eyes were glassy at the edges; her lashes were slightly darker and wet. Her cheeks were red and flushed, even under the dim light; I could notice it.
I had spent enough time cataloguing Abigail Kellerman's face to notice every single tiny change on her face, especially with how close she was right now.
Huffs of warm breath escaped from her slightly parted pink lips, hitting against my chest. She was tipped back against the desk with her free hand pressed flat against my shirt, and every inch of her body making contact with every inch of mine. She blinked up at me.
Those cornflower blue eyes were enormous and glassy. Her jasmine scent filled my nose, setting my body on fire.
I was going to hell.
"I found proof on—" Her breath hitched when my thumb brushed her soft lower lip. Her lips parted further, and I pressed in until she took it into her mouth.
