-POV Derby
We stayed locked in that conference room longer than we should have.
Jordan didn’t rush to fix his clothes or tell me to leave first like he usually did. Instead he grabbed the box of tissues, knelt in front of me without a word, and gently cleaned the mess between my thighs. His touch was careful, almost tender. Not the hungry, possessive hands that had just f****d me on the table. These hands were different. Softer. Like he was taking care of something that actually mattered.
I watched him, heart hammering.
No one had ever done that for me before.
When he was done, he stood up, tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and pressed a slow kiss to my forehead. The kind of kiss that felt too intimate for two people who weren’t supposed to be anything.
“We should go,” he
