The night pressed heavy against the skyline, the city glittering with a million lights below. Calla stood in front of the tall windows of her apartment, arms wrapped around herself as if she could hold her trembling together. It had been three days since that conference room. Three days since she let him push her past every line she’d drawn.
She’d promised herself she’d never let him touch her again. And yet, every time she closed her eyes, she could still feel him. His hands gripping her thighs. His mouth on her skin. His voice whispering her name like it was both a threat and a promise.
She pressed her forehead against the glass and exhaled slowly. She hated how much her body remembered him. Hated how every nerve still hummed like he was standing right behind her. She was losing ground
