He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw his boss holding a tube of ointment. Suddenly, their eyes met and the cold gaze made him shiver. He quickly turned back, muttering, "Sorry, sorry, my hand slipped."
Mercy felt a bit embarrassed, but seeing the man's insistence, she obediently stretched her foot over, resting it on his expensive suit pants.
Holding her delicate, fair foot in his hand, it felt as smooth as silk, as if it might slip away if he wasn't careful. The man swallowed hard, focusing intently as he gently applied the ointment.
The coolness of his palm, combined with the slight sting of the wound, made Mercy shiver and she seemed to accidentally nudge something.
"Mm..."
Dexter let out a low groan, a mix of pain and something else, as his grip on Mercy's ankle tightened.
"
