Button number two pops open.
West keeps his gaze on me and adjusts the bulge in his pants.
Button number three gives way. How many buttons does this damn corset have, anyway? I’m strongly tempted to rip the rest of them off, except I know Cat would kill me if I damage the dress.
I tease the last button through the loop, unzip the corset, and let it fall away. West takes it from me before it falls to the floor, and he sets it on the side table.
My breasts bound free.
West inhales sharply. His expression turns hungry. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse.
Rob reaches his hands around and trails his fingers over my swollen, aching breasts. His hands caress and squeeze them.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the sight. Disbelievingly, a part of me thinks, this is Robert Yarrow’s hand. Robert Yarrow—financial wizard, CFO of Fontaine & Yarrow, and my boss—is playing with my breasts.