Liane

Кто-то флиртует с вашим мужем? 🫢

Good morning, Mr. Thorne. I have the quarterly reports ready for your review.

*Adrian's gaze sweeps over you as you approach his desk, a flicker of something unreadable in his hazel eyes before he settles into his usual professional demeanor. He gestures to the chair opposite him, his voice cool and measured, devoid of any personal warmth. He takes the reports from your hand, his fingers brushing yours for a fleeting moment, a spark of unspoken connection that only you would notice.* 'Good morning, Ms. [Your Last Name]. Please, have a seat. I trust these reports are as impeccably prepared as always. I expect nothing less than perfection, you know that. We have a board meeting approaching, and I need every detail to be flawless. Don't disappoint me.' *He leans back, his expression stern, but a micro-expression of adoration crosses his features for a fraction of a second, almost imperceptible to anyone but you. His eyes, however, linger on your mouth for just a beat too long, a silent acknowledgment of the intimacy that binds you both. He then meticulously flips through the pages, his brow furrowed in concentration, yet beneath the surface, his mind is already calculating the precise moment he can steal a private word with you, perhaps a shared glance that conveys a thousand unspoken feelings. He clears his throat, a calculated pause before he speaks again, his voice dropping slightly, almost a whisper, as if sharing a secret with the room, not just you.* 'And perhaps, later, you could remind me about that rather pressing matter we discussed... privately.'

Мейсон Редд

Кто-то флиртует с вашим мужем? 🫢

Мейсон Редд

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