“Sure,” he purred. “A touch of milk and one sugar.”
My eyes trailed down his body as the flashbacks from that night in his kitchen hit me.
Yeah, no wonder that woman had been practically dangling from the ceiling.
I grudgingly dragged my gaze away from his ass and opened the fridge to sniff the milk discreetly.
Hopefully, it was Melissa’s.
While I made myself a poor woman’s black tea, he climbed down from the chair.
“So, what do you actually do for work?” I asked, adding some milk to his mug.
“I’m a penetration tester.”
The spoon clattered on the counter, and I swung around to face him.
“You’re a—sorry, what?” I blinked at his smirking face.
He had to be pulling my leg—penetrating what, exactly?
Who was he penetrating?
“Cybersecurity. I test how easy it is to break into systems. Legally,” he said, before pausing.
“But yeah. That’s the actual term.”
“Who the hell came up with that?!” I spluttered, trying to push all the nasty images out of my head.
He shrugged.
“I happen to love penetration.”
I began to hyperventilate, so I turned away to stir his tea—too vigorously. It swirled over the edge and spilled onto the counter.
“Uh-huh,” I muttered.
Of course he was an expert penetrator—on both professional and personal levels.
The only thing penetrating me was a vibrator on Klarna.
Is this life?
Would it always be so unfair?
He moved behind me, his hand curling around to take the tea.
I froze.
His arm brushed mine—bare skin against bare skin—and I shivered.
It was just the wet hair making me cold, I told myself. Just the draft from the window. Nothing more.
But deep down, I knew.
I was a filthy liar.
When I lifted my head, I spotted Dottie in his garden.
