He tossed me onto the bed in the adjacent room connected to his office.
Leaning over, he loosened his tie with one hand, the dark red silk slipping through his fingers.
I had a feeling that I had interrupted his meeting, and now, he was irritated.
After all, he wasn’t always so indulgent with me.
“Did you miss me that much today?”
My long hair spilled across the bed, and he toyed with it, wrapping the strands around his fingers.
I looked at him in silence.
“Ethan, do you have any milk in your office?”
He paused, clearly not expecting that question.
This lounge seemed to be his private space, connected to his office.
The scattered dress shirts and suits on the bed all belonged to him.
After a moment, he pulled a carton of milk from the fridge and handed it to me.
“Ran out of milk at home…?”
He never got to finish his sentence because I snatched the milk from his hand.
Twisting off the cap, I poured it straight over his head.
For a second, he froze.
Honestly, he could have dodged it.
But he didn’t. He let me empty the entire carton over him without moving an inch.
I tilted my head up to look at him.
And damn it—even like this, he still looked good.
“Ethan Chambers, this is exactly how you once poured milk over my head.”
I spoke each word slowly and deliberately.
…
Maybe no one else had ever seen him this disheveled before.
Milk dripped down his brow as he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
