-POV Derby
I didn’t leave right away.
I should have.
But after Jordan came on my skin, after he cleaned me up with a warm cloth from his private bathroom like it was the most natural thing in the world, I stood there in his office with my dress still wrinkled and my legs still shaky, trying to remember why this was a terrible idea.
He watched me from across the desk, shirt half-buttoned, hair messy from my fingers. His eyes were dark, satisfied, but not soft.
“You’re shaking,” he said quietly.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” He stepped closer, thumb brushing my lower lip. “You’re already thinking about running.”
I was. Because the second the pleasure faded, reality crashed back in — Tamara’s hand on his arm, the word wedding, the way he hadn’t corrected her. I was the secret. The mistake
