MICHELA;
The dining table felt smaller than usual tonight. I sat across from Miles, the red dress hugging every curve of my body.
The stretchy fabric clung to my full breasts, and I had skipped the bra just like Jemy suggested. Every small movement made the material shift against my bulging, hard n*****s. I tried to focus on my plate, but my eyes kept drifting to the man at the head of the table, just to my right.
Miles looked incredibly handsome in his gray button-up shirt. The top buttons were undone as usual, revealing a teasing glimpse of dark chest hair and the edge of a tattoo I had always wanted to trace with my fingers.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his thick, veiny forearms. Every time he reached for a salt or pepper shaker, those strong arms flexed, m
