First flash: her cornered upstairs, getting roughed. But the banter? Straight affair—broadcast replay!
Killing aura rolled off him, eyes bloodshot. Wanted to shred her live.
Leash straining, chill flooding his veins, he wheeled for the control booth—kill the feed.
Clara blocked smooth. "Ian—shut it now? What's that fix? You're ice always—don't crack."
Cloth twitched aside on cam; her eyes danced glee.
Missed the replay tag, seething: Tina's mug outs? Done forever.
Ian's cool torched to ash—missed her smug flick. All tunnel: black the damn thing.
But next beat? A she-wolf's purr sliced through.
"Damn, that's it—harder."
"Ahh—love it."
Clara's voice. Crystal.
She froze, jaw slack—head snapping up to her own face, HD-sharp on the sprawl.
Draped over glass, blissed-out haze—pores p
