CONNOR
Her hair was tied up in a ponytail. I wondered if anyone had ever told her she was prettier with her hair down. My hands itched to set them free.
Portia came into my office with a glass of water, handed it over to the jumpy Grace who stared at the glass like she didn’t know what to do with it, until she realized I was watching her and she proceeded to gulp the glass’ content at a go.
She wiped the back of her hand against her soft, vulnerable-looking lips in a manner that made me crave to suckle them, before handing the glass over to Portia, mouthing a “thank you” to the secretary as she turned and left.
“Are you ready?” she asked once more and placed the recorder on the table with a long white sheet of paper and note pad on her laps.
I was ready, as long as she wou
