Joanne leaned forward, still sitting on the bed, and shoved at the drawer. JD held it open.

"You havewildpreferences, Ms. Smith." His voice was amused, tinged with something almostmocking. He cocked his head, eyeing the scandalous item inside. "What is that... about eight inches? And the girth... Is that evenrealistic?"

He smirked, pretending to reach toward thebig, long, pink pleasure thingy.

Joanne rolled her eyes, her faceburning. His scent was too close—too distracting. She slapped his hand away, but he didn’t budge.

"It’s pretty realistic," she muttered. "It might be rare, but some men have it this... big..."

Her stomach clenched.Liam did.

The thought sent another wave of heat to her face—notthe kind she welcomed. Humiliation prickled under her skin, creeping up her neck. Between the fever and sheer mortification, she felt like she mightpass out. But before that, shehadto close the damn drawer.

She pushed harder, but JD still held firm, unmoved.

He hadsomany questions.

Where did she evengetthis idea?P*rn?How often did sheuseit? Was it a regular habit? Or was she just... extra?Was she even getting any?Had she been without a boyfriend forthat long?

Before he could voice a single thought, something else stole his attention—Like a guard dog distracted by a dangling steak, JD went silent.

His gaze dropped—Lower.

And landed directly on her chest.

She was only wearing a slip...And she wasbending down...

His brainshort-circuited.

His hand tightened on the drawer. For the first time in his life, JDunderstoodwhat people meant bytemptation.

She was oblivious to the effect she had on him, still struggling with the drawer, still completely unaware that the thin strap of her slip had slid down her shoulder.

Shehadn’tnoticed. Buthehad.

His jaw locked. His throat went dry.

His bodyreacted.

JD had always prided himself on his self-control.

As aWinchester, he was used to women throwing themselves at him—prancing, seducing, doinganythingto win his attention. Even as a teenager, he never lacked admirers, and as a man, he neverwavered.

To him, a body was just abody.Fat cells and tissue. Nothing more.He wasdesensitizedto a woman’s naked form.

Until today.

Untilher.

His body burned in ways it never had before. His mind screamed at him to look away—but his eyes weren’t listening.

He was acting like a goddamnpervert.

And hedidn’t care.

He wanted to bury his face in the softness of her chest.

He wanted to inhale her scent, to press her down into the mattress and climb on top of her, to sink deep inside her until nothing else existed—

"Oh,fuck!"

Her sharp curse cut through his haze like a blade.

JD jolted, clearing his throat and jerking his gaze to the side—away from the very thing that had just tested every ounce of restraint he had.

Was he caught?

Was he going to see the mortified expression on her face? He didn’t have the guts to see.

Joanne, however, hadn’t noticed JD’s glace. Only her inappropriate attire. She yanked her strap back into place, curling up on the bed, pulling her knees close as though she could shrink into herself and disappear.

She wasneverthis careless.

Never.

What the hell was happening to her?

Was she...getting numbto JD’s presence?

This was dangerous.

Hewas dangerous.

At the end of the day, he was still aman. What if hesnapped?

JD exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He didn’tmeanto make things worse. But he didn’t want toapologizeeither.

If she confronted him—demandedan explanation—he could at leastsay something. Maybe even admit that whatever the hell this was between them, it wasn’tjustan accident.

Instead, since she was not saying anything, he smirked, trying to play it off.

"This issexual harassment, you know." His voice was deliberately light, teasing. "You’re my boss, and this might constitute as—"

"Sorry!"

The word shot out of her like a bullet.

JD froze.

He hadn’t expected that.

In this situation, wouldn’t most womenblamethe man? Call him apervert? Berate him forstaring?

Why the hell wassheapologizing? What was her thought process?

Joanne tried to stand. Her legs wobbled. JD instinctively stepped forward to steady her, but she twisted away, refusing to look at him.

Her body swayed. She was so damnvulnerable—physically, mentally.

"I..."

Her voice cracked.

And then—

The world around her darkened.

JD lunged forward just in time to catch her before she collapsed.

She slumped against him, her strengthgone, but he had enough for both of them. He carried her effortlessly, placing her back on the bed with more gentleness than he ever thought himself capable of.

She waslight.

Too light.

"I can carry you up the stairs, Jo," He brushed a damp strand of hair from her cheek, his fingers lingering against her skin longer than they should have.

His heart pounded.

He wanted to domore.

To see her lying there, vulnerable and soft, made something inside himsnap.

Hewantedher.

Desperately.

And for once in his life—

He wasn’t sure he could fight it.

JD leaned forward, pressing his lips against her cheek.

And that wasnotenough.

-----

The sharp chime of the doorbell yanked Joanne from the depths of unconsciousness.

Her headthrobbed.

A dull, relentless pain pressed against her skull, pulsing behind her eyes. It felt like she’d been rolled down theentireAppalachian Mountain—twice—then tossed into a dryer for good measure.

She groaned, squinting against the faint morning light filtering through the curtains. Her limbs ached, her muscles stiff and sore as if she’d fought a battle in her sleep.

The doorbell rang again.

And again.

Each chime was like a hammer against her skull.

Then, just as her vision cleared, the ringingstopped.

Silence.

Her fingers moved instinctively to her face, brushing over her cheek... then her lips.

Something feltoff.

A strange warmth lingered there, like a ghost of a memory she couldn’t quite grasp. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember.

There was a dream...

A dream where she’d feltwarmall over. Secure. Protected. Held.

Her stomach clenched.

With a sharp inhale, she shot up.

A rolled hand towel tumbled onto her lap—dried and still faintly warm.

Her gaze flicked to her sides. Two more neatly rolled towels rested beside her, as if they’d been placed there deliberately.

Her brows furrowed.

And then she noticed—

She wasn’t wearing what she had been before.

Her slip wasgone.

Instead, she was draped in a shirt.

Aman’sshirt.

JD’s shirt.

The realization hit her like a freight train.

Her breath hitched.

Her fingers trembled as they clutched the soft fabric, her mind racing to piece together the missing fragments.

What the hell happened here?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by lotustale.com