With a heavy heart, I left that place. I say "heavy heart" because Harry, the shameless guy, was walking out with a huge smile on his face, knowing that my boss was watching us. My boss hadn't left yet, and I think he wanted to wait and see how far Harry's jealousy would go. I can't believe it. That man is not who he appears to be. Deep down, I knew that this outing wasn't a good idea, especially with the alcohol I was drinking. Oh, God!! I'm so stupid. I didn't see this coming. Harry is holding my hand, and I don't want to make a scene. He's doing all of this because of the provocations of the man who is still watching us. I don't want to look down, but I feel uncomfortable. I can't help it. "You don't have to be ashamed. We're not doing anything wrong," he says. His tone of voice is so confident that it scares me where things are going. "That son of a bitch has power over you, and I've handed it to him on a silver platter. I can't transfer you to another department because that

I spread out the towel to allow me to wrap it around my voluptuous bust, I open the bathroom door and take slow steps out, connecting to the bedroom. Behind me, I hear Harry's footsteps, causing me to pause in my steps. I turn my head halfway and over my shoulders I see the sensual and naked body of that man. He is laughing sensually and calling all my feminine instincts, but for today, I will let my head guide me and not the palpitations that signal to all parts of my body. I smile flirtatiously at him and make a simple gesture with my finger, moving it from side to side, indicating no. He smiles at my response and I continue my steps, not staying at his mercy of lust. I open the wide and spacious mahogany wardrobe with the sole intention of getting Harry's clothing out, while mine is still scattered on the floor. I have taken everything I need from the wardrobe and laid it on the bed. While I exercise, Harry is drying his attractive body. In less than five minutes, I put on my clo

"That's what I want the most," I stutter, closing my eyes and cursing loudly, wishing all of this would end. "Why don't you come with me?" "No, that's too much work." "Then let me complain. My bones ache and at the same time burn," I sigh as I remember, "I even want to go home, throw myself on the bed because I need to sleep for a while." Oh, the best thing would be if Harry were here to comfort me, to tell me that everything will pass and that I don't need to go to the gym anymore. Hey! I'm like this because I'm not used to it yet. "Haha," she bursts out laughing, "don't say crazy things, you're young, and you can do a lot." "I don't understand your mockery," I snap, "you're my boss, but that doesn't mean you can laugh at me." "It's...that...he..." she's laughing uncontrollably, "you have an enviable body, what if the trainer is in love with you? You're the only one who's not crazy about him," she passes her index finger, wiping away the tears from laughing. "What?" I raise an

The hours passed, and I decided to leave the bathroom, only to be surprised that he was still there. For minutes and hours, I had thought he had left. "You said you would leave me alone." I couldn't help it, I looked into his eyes. I blinked a few times and relaxed because he had stayed. Does he really love me? Why does he pursue me like this? Damn, he couldn't leave because he can't even handle his own body. "I'm sorry, I can't do it." What? Damn it, I can't allow him to not value me. What kind of relationship is this? I don't understand. The idea that my heart may not resist, that this feeling will continue to grow and I won't be able to control it, that I can't bear the idea that he will never love me, that it's all because... Ah, just thinking about it makes my heart ache. "That's enough. I don't want us to keep going through the same thing. You should see that you hurt me. Why did you drink?" I raised my voice. "We're not kids." Yes, I have to make it clear what I think an

Smile and start unbuttoning, with your gaze fixed on me. It's taking all my willpower not to rush forward and rip it off in one go. Why is he dragging it out so much? I know what he wants. He wants to make me wait. He likes to torture me. When he finally gets to the last button, he shrugs his shoulders back and takes it off. For a brief moment, as I see the muscles in his chest tense and relax when he throws both arms back, I think I might faint. He takes off his shoes and then frees himself from his pants. I scan his perfect physique and my mouth waters until I come to the horrible mark on his abdomen. My gaze lingers on it for a moment, but he steps back between my legs and makes me forget my curiosity. I try to control the urge to grab him. The pressure I feel between my legs makes me wriggle on the counter to relieve the tremendous spasms that torment me. He's not relaxed, either. His immense erection, trapped under his pants, thrusts forcefully against my thigh. He places his