June
I’m outside Mr. Grande's office now, hiding in the bathroom on my floor.
My knees are still weak, my chest still heaving.
What the hell just happened?
I thought we were just going to talk. I thought he was going to say something like, After careful consideration, I reject your advances. But no, instead, he…
My hands move on their own, trailing over my blouse, over my breast where his slender fingers twisted and pinched until I thought I’d scream. I shut my eyes, biting my lip as my palm drifts lower, skimming the hem of my skirt. God—just remembering the way he slid into me, slow, teasing, owning every piece of me—my thighs clench tight.
Why didn’t he f**k me again? Why did he just zip up, hand me my blouse, and mutter, I’ll call you again like it was some business deal?
My po
