Emma
Killian Armstrong was still standing in the doorway as he stared at me, his eyes a visible expression of attraction. Apparently, it wasn't just Jasper Parrish who liked lace lingerie.
“Mr. Armstrong… you here?” I spluttered, as I was taken aback by his presence there.
“I'm sorry, the door wasn't necessarily closed, and I ended up catching the last part of your conversation,” he said, explaining why he had burst in like that and, on top of that, looking upset just because I was saying I wasn't hungry enough to eat lunch.
However, his voice was deeper than usual, so since I still had memories of what had happened between us on Friday night and how his voice got deeper when he was completely crazy with desire, I concluded that at that moment it was happening.
I smiled internally. R
