Abigail’s lips curled into a coy smile, ignoring the razor-sharp edge in Christopher’s voice. Her teeth lightly grazed her bottom lip, a calculated move as her fingers trailed down to the neckline of her lingerie.
She pushed her breasts together with both hands, amplifying the curves she clearly thought would hold his attention. Her eyes gleamed with an unsettling mix of desire and defiance.
“I came here to see you, mi amor,” she murmured, her voice thick with a forced sweetness that only grated on Christopher further. She shifted closer, her perfume—too strong and overly sweet—wafting in the air between them as she toyed with the thin strap of her lingerie, teasing the idea of removing it. “
And maybe to talk things out… clear the air between us.” Her lips parted slightly, revealing a
