I lowered myself gingerly onto the leather office chair, biting back a sharp wince as my aching lower half screamed in protest with every tiny shift. Fresh knots from last night—why do I keep being such a complete idiot?
The second I beg any of them for more, it backfires hard. Those words barely leave my lips before they pounce, knotting me brutally with zero mercy, railing me senseless into the mattress until I'm a trembling, overspent mess.
Lesson never learned. Why don't I ever learn my lesson?
With a deep, frustrated groan, I braced my hands on the desk and pushed up again, ignoring the persistent throb between my thighs. Dressed sharp in a tailored black pantsuit—crisp blouse hugging my curves, blazer nipped at the waist—I scratched an itch on my nose and headed for the elevator.
Herlos deserved better than that crumbling old headquarters with its leaky roofs and outdated wiring; we'd snapped up this sleek new tower downtown just last month.
