CHAPTER 4
Even if he hadn’t known Delaney Hall was his so-called ‘match,’ Connor was absolutely positive she would’ve blown him sideways. It wasn’t just her body and face though. It was the way she moved.
Delaney walked into the conference room like she owned the place: shoulders thrown back, curves sculpted into perfect relief thanks to that dress, and those heels…
I want them to dig into my spine as I f**k her, he thought, and then blinked.
Blinked again.
When had he ever been into women’s shoes?
Since she started wearing them, his brain assured him—only was it his brain? Connor wasn’t so sure. Usually, his brain created roof truss angles or the proper balance of proportions. It was logical. Cold, even.
It damn sure didn’t think about bright red high heels…
Or how they might feel
