“You can’t do this,” I tried to interject confidently.
It was a valiant effort, really, the kind of statement that usually works in a brightly lit office during business hours. But the words failed miserably the moment Nisi lifted one of the crystal glasses and started to pour the vintage wine over my naked body.
The cold liquid was a sharp, biting shock against my feverish skin. I closed my eyes, breathless, as the dark red droplets raced down my curves, soaking into the lace of my underwear. This was insane. This was a direct violation of at least fourteen different corporate bylaws, not to mention the laws of physics regarding how much heat one man’s gaze could actually generate.
“Analysis, Rahab?” Nisi murmured, his breath vibrating against my ear as he followed the path of the wine
