4: Bryant.

My God, I can't seem to concentrate. I don't understand the odd click that happened inside of me when she walked into this office. Like...my soul was expecting her. It doesn't make any fucking sense. We're not supposed to have things in common. This anger we share, left behind almost certainly by our parents, our upbringing, it's binding us tighter by the second. I have a clear mission here—seduce the brat and send her back to Hart crying. After everything her father has done to my family, I shouldn't be hesitating now.

She's attracted to me. I can push a little, overwhelm her.

Unfortunately, I'm not so sure I won't overwhelm myself in the process.

My dick is stiff, palms perspiring. She's wearing a white skirt and it's just north of too short for a job interview. Instead of pushing it up and sliding my fingers down the front of her panties...I have the most insane urge to lecture her.

You do not wear skirts unless I'm with you.

I want to say it to her while she's face down over my la