But the sight froze me.
"Fuck."
The word hissed through my teeth.
Under the light, Harper's lush, pale body lay bare. She wore black lace—if you could call that "wearing."
The lace strained against her overflowing tits, straps digging in, pushing them up into a deep cleavage, nipples dark and visible through the sheer fabric.
My throat bobbed, breaths turning heavy.
Worse below.
The "panties" were just strings, slung over her round, plump ass. That tiny lace scrap hid nothing—her creamy thighs and full cheeks exposed.
No man stayed calm here. My cock throbbed hard, veins bulging, straining against my pants, demanding I pin her down, rip it off, fill her up.
She'd done this on purpose. The timid caregiver by day, but this underneath.
"Miss Evans," I sneered. "How should I take this outfit?"
"No!" Harper whipped around, face crimson, hands fumbling to cover up. "Mr. Orlov, they took all my clothes and left me nothing but this."
She rushed the words, curling into a ball, awkwardas hell.
I paused.
Seeing her panic cooled my anger a notch.
It clicked. That old fox had planned it—take away her stuff, leave the lingerie, force something tonight.
Cliché move.
But damn effective.
I eyed Harper, her skin flushed with shame, glistening with a sheen of sweat that made her glow.
"So that's it."
Misunderstanding cleared, but the fire raged. Maybe too much booze nuked my control. Her body, the getup—it shredded my restraint.
She was the type money could buy. So what if something happened?
She'd want it. That's why she was here.
I smirked, fingers hooking the thin strap on her shoulder, toying with it, brushing her warm skin on purpose.
"I think," I growled low, edged with danger, "Olga's got better taste than your friends. This suits you."
Harper shuddered hard. She bit her lip, eyes darting away, blush spreading down her neck.
The usual meek girl, now all shy and scared but stuck with it—it sparked an urge to rip through her facade.
Booze, perhaps, or frustration from Genevie, or maybe just her tempting body.
I yanked the covers off, killing her hiding spot.
"Mr. Orlov!" She yelped, grabbing for the edge.
