Tantalizing, tender tatas tease my cheek. My hardening manhood is begging to be unleashed. Amythest is inflaming my raging appetite for a woman. But rules are rules. No touching.

Imagine the utter shock that courses through my stimulated body when this goddess saunters into my conference room a few days later.

My cocksure attitude spectacularly backfires in my enamored face as she rebuffs my advances.

Watching her curvaceous, abundant ass stomp to the elevator further stokes my cravings.

Letting her alone now isn’t an option. But she must explain why she strips. Is it wrong to ask her if she gets paid for sex? 

Apparently so, the slamming door and my stupid unfiltered mouth forcing her to retreat.

When I heroically save the day, a powerful man accosting her in the park, she agrees to a rendezvous.

Then, panic stops my captivated heart as blocked appears in big, red letters on my cell phone hours before our date.

What the hell? Addison’s in unthinkable trouble. I feel her cry of desperation in my bones. No measure is too drastic to protect my precious woman. I pray to God I reach her in time. I love her. Exactly as she is.