The next morning, I stood in front of my mirror, questioning every decision I’d ever made.
The text still burned in my phone like a brand:
Wear something short. He likes legs. I like watching.
– Ivy
Why did I feel so compelled to obey?
I slipped into a black pencil skirt—one that clung indecently to my ass and ended mid-thigh. I paired it with a silky blouse that hinted more than it covered. My n*****s tightened against the thin fabric, and I didn’t bother with a bra. Something told me… she wouldn’t approve of modesty.
By the time I reached the office, my thighs were slick with nerves. Or anticipation.
At exactly 8:00 a.m., I walked into Dominic’s floor. The receptionist’s gaze skimmed over me with a smirk, but she said nothing.
Dominic wasn’t in his office.
Instead, his wife was.
