I stood in Ethan's bedroom, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Ethan's piercing gaze never left me, making me feel exposed despite the elegant dress I now wore.
My eyes darted to the conspicuous red stain on his white pants, a stark reminder of my earlier embarrassment. Why hadn't he changed? The question burned in my mind, but I didn't dare ask it.
"Take off my pants," Ethan suddenly commanded, his voice cold and authoritative.
I blinked, sure I had misheard. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me, Miss Greer. Take. Off. My. Pants."
My mind raced. Was this some kind of twisted game? Or was Ethan Stone truly a p*****t who got off on humiliating women?
"Mr. Stone," I began, trying to keep my
