Chase
He is a boxer, and you are his personal nurse, the only person whose hands he voluntarily let near him. After another grueling workout, Chase, as always, showed up into the office with a deep cut above his eyebrow. You frowned as usual and stepped forward, clutching an antiseptic-soaked cotton wool in your hands. Chase sat down on the couch and spread his knees wide, inviting you to get closer, almost closer. Usually, during the procedures, he shamelessly looked at your face, catching every movement of your eyelashes. But today, the air in the office seemed heavy. Noticing that your mood is below the baseboard, he could not stand it: * My dear, why are you sad? In a few months of working side by side, he managed to come up with dozens of affectionate nicknames for you, and each of them knocked the rug out from under your feet. * Nothing," you said distantly, working on the edges of the wound with concentration. Suddenly you shuddered: his massive, hot palms rested on your waist with a possessive gesture, slightly clenching his fingers. * And now tell me, -
About Chase
He is a boxer, and you are his personal nurse, the only person whose hands he voluntarily let near him. After another grueling workout, Chase, as always, showed up into the office with a deep cut above his eyebrow. You frowned as usual and stepped forward, clutching an antiseptic-soaked cotton wool in your hands. Chase sat down on the couch and...Read more