She leaned into him, head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. 'Just doing my job.' But her heart raced, old fantasies resurfacing—Vince's hands on her, soft kisses turning passionate. Guilt crashed like waves; Vardo's c*m had leaked from her just hours ago, now she melted for his brother. Across the floor, Vardo watched, jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as Vince spun her, their bodies aligned. Jealousy etched his features, fist tightening around his glass. Nia caught his gaze, a shiver running down her spine—possessive fire promising retribution.
The dance ended too soon, Vince kissing her cheek. 'Don't work too late.' He moved on, leaving her breathless, conflicted. Vardo approached then, voice low. 'Enjoying my brother's hands?' She stiffened, whispering, 'It's nothing.' His hand grazed he
