As she finishes putting on her wrinkled pencil skirt and her red lace bra, she grabs her torn white button up and gives me a questioning look. “Sir,...you ripped this off of me…” I raise an eyebrow at her. Is she stupid? Of course I knew that. I did it to help her. That shirt was so tight against her chest that it would have ripped without my help. “Well, sir, I have nothing else to wear.” I sigh as I take my blazer off and throw it to her. You’d think that after months of fucking, she’d know by. I...I wish I knew. I'm...” she trailed off as she pushed her body back against Desmond's. He hugged her back and they went back to standing in silence for another minute before she pulled away and grabbed his hand. “We need to lay down to talk,” she said matter-of-factly.Desmond followed her into his room, and she pulled him onto the bed. He suddenly realized how little she was wearing, how sweat drenched he was, and how much he wanted to feel every part of her body. Trying to shake those. More

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