13
NORA
Weston f*****g Wright had fingerbanged me in the living room in the name of science.
Nothing made sense anymore.
It was a few days later, and still, it was all I could think about. Not Annie and Jordan’s wedding, which was only two weeks away. Or the Locke-King wedding that I was planning for next month. Not anything at all while I was in my office at Wright Vineyard, trying against all hope to be productive.
Except all I could think about was the sensation of his f*****g fingers on my clit. The way he’d made me come harder than I ever had with my own fingers. And he hadn’t even taken my panties off.
All those years of assuming I couldn’t come, of being expressly told that I probably couldn’t, and he’d done it in a matter of minutes. My brain was in a fog from it.
I’d faked
