"You know what I'm sick of, Summer?" His hand comes to my throat, fluttering over the skin so gently that larch toward him to increase the pressure.
"What's that?"
"Having you think I'm out fucking everything that moves when I've looked at nothing and no one since the first day I laid eyes on you. I stepped into that godforsaken boardroom, and you practically demanded I become obsessed with you."
— Aug 04, 2025 03:35PM
Add a comment