CHAPTER THIRTY

Camilla

No.

Not her.

Not the same woman I’d seen that day. Not the same one who had been on top of him, riding his cock in his office while he gripped her hips like she was made to take him. The same cock that had been inside me.

I hated that my mind went there. That I thought of it in those words. That I thought of his cock at all. But my traitorous, vindictive brain did.

This son of a bitch.

My hands clenched into fists as I stared at the screen, at the flashing name, my mind racing.

What did she want?

Had he been...