My eyes flit down to her feet. She’s changed back into pumps, and there’s a pinch somewhere deep in my gut when my eyes skate over the dainty row of pearls wrapping around her ankles. It’s those same damn stilettos again. Must be her favorite pair. My fingers twitch on my lap, and I flex my hand around my thigh while my mind replays feverish flashes of Mercy splayed wide open, her skin supple under my touch.
