I wish I could say I was able to concentrate on some (or any) of what Bruce Marshall blabbed about in our meeting, but the truth was I was too busy shifting in my seat to adjust my six-foot hard-on. All I could think about was Dylan and the million implications of what we’d just agreed to. Who’d brought up sex first? She had, I was sure of it. My mind hadn’t even gone there. And not for lack of attraction to her. She was forbidden, completely off-limits, which begged the question: What were we doing?
