Chapter 207: Chapter 207
She grabbed the body wash, squirted a generous amount into her palms, and started on my chest—slow circles, nails grazing my nipples, working lower. I returned the favor, hands gliding over her slick tits, thumbs flicking the hard peaks, then down her stomach, between her thighs for a teasing second before moving to her back.
"So," she murmured, pressing closer until our bodies slid together, "I heard noises coming from your room this morning. Care to explain?"
I laughed against her neck. "Fucked Minne’s thighs in those pink stockings. Then sixty-nined Nala until we both ca. I’m running on fus."
Jasmine splashed water at my face, laughing. "You absolute horny animal. That poor girl’s never going to walk straight again."
"She asked for it," I said, catching her wrist and pulling her flush against . Water cascaded over us. I kissed her—deep, hungry—and she kissed back just as hard, teeth nipping my bottom lip, hands sliding down to cup my ass.
We stayed like that a long minute, just making out under the spray, hands roaming, soap forgotten, bodies pressed tight. Eventually she broke away, breathless.
"If we keep going I’m bending over right here and you’ll miss breakfast."
"Tempting," I groaned, "but I’m dead."
She turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and started drying —slow strokes across my chest, down my abs, kneeling to towel off my thighs and cock with teasing little pats. I did the sa for her, rubbing the towel over her tits until her nipples peaked again, down her back, squeezing her ass before wrapping it around her.
We stepped out, skin still steaming. She slipped into black lace panties first—bending over so I got the full view—then a matching bra that barely containing her. Stockings next, rolling them up those endless legs. I pulled on boxer-briefs, jeans, a simple black tee—nothing fancy, but the way she watched made
feel like I was dressing for a photoshoot.
Jasmine finished with a quick twist of her damp hair into a high ponytail, smacked my shoulders once, and winked.
"Ready, Magic Fingers?"
I stole one last kiss. "Eh, kinda."
We stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind us like a bad decision.
Minne was already bustling around the dining table, hair still damp and curling at the ends from her own shower, wearing a simple white apron over a soft gray dress. The table looked like a five-star brunch had exploded: stacks of fluffy Belgian waffles drowning in whipped cream and fresh berries, crispy bacon glistening with maple glaze, golden croissants still steaming, eggs benedict with perfectly runny yolks, smoked salmon roses on little toast points, fresh-squeezed orange juice in crystal pitchers, and a mountain of sliced fruit arranged like a damn rainbow.
I collapsed onto the couch, lit a cigarette, and took a long drag.
Tessa appeared out of nowhere, snatched it from my fingers, and crushed it in the ashtray.
"Hey," she said, hands on hips. "At least smoke after breakfast, sheesh."
"Aw..."
Kim dropped down beside , stretched out like a cat, and laid her head on my chest. She scrolled on her phone, thumb flicking lazily.
"Morning," I said, glancing at the screen.
"Morning," she murmured. "What a night, huh?"
I chuckled. "I’m still dead."
"I bet you are."
She tilted her head up, eyes sparkling. "God, I wish I could’ve seen Guy’s face when that video played. How bad was it?"
"Our baby-boy looked like he was having a stroke," I said, grinning. "Completely lost. Best day of my life."
"Deserved every second," Kim said darkly. "Bastard."
"Yeah. Can’t believe soone can be that evil. Glad he’s finally off our backs."
"For real." She stretched up and kissed
soft and slow. "No more drama."
"Don’t jinx it," I warned, kissing her forehead.
"You’re right, you’re right."
My hand slid under her loose tank top, finding warm skin. I brushed my thumb over one nipple, slow circles, then pinched gently. She inhaled sharply, arching into my palm.
I rolled the hard little peak between my fingers, tugging just enough to make her squirm. "Like that?"
"Mm..." A soft moan slipped out, eyes fluttering. "You still got so fuel left?"
"Even if he does," Jasmine called from the table, "we’re late. Hands off the rchandise, Marlowe."
"Breakfast’s ready!" Minne announced, cheeks pink.
Kim laughed, stole one last kiss, and we moved to the table.
Everyone sat—Jasmine, Tessa, Kim, Nala, . Minne stood politely, hands clasped, waiting.
Jasmine raised a brow. "Minne? You’re not eating?"
"I always eat after," Minne said automatically. "You might want sothing while—"
"Shut up," Tessa interrupted, leaning over and yanking Minne into the empty chair beside her. "Sit."
"But—"
"Sit, girl," Kim added, smiling.
"A-alright... sorry."
"Sorry?" Tessa speared a chocolate-drizzled waffle. "No, I’m sorry for stealing the one with the most chocolate."
"Hey!" Nala’s voice floated in as she finally appeared, hair perfect, blazer slung over one arm. "That was mine, you thief."
"Too bad, CEO. Be faster next ti."
"Ugh."
We dug in. For a few minutes there was only the clink of silverware and happy little food noises.
Tessa stacked three waffles, drowned them in syrup, and moaned dramatically. "Minne, these are perfect."
Minne went scarlet. "M-Miss Tessa... thanks."
Kim stole a piece of bacon off my plate. I stole it back and held it over her head until she laughed and bit my fingers.
Jasmine leaned back, sipping coffee, watching us all like a satisfied queen. "This feels... weirdly normal."
"Normal is good," Nala said, snagging the last smoked-salmon rose. "Normal ans nobody’s trying to ruin our company today."
"Yet," I added.
Everyone groaned.
"Shut up, Evan," four voices said in unison.
Minne giggled—the softest, sweetest sound—and finally relaxed enough to pile fruit onto her plate.
Tessa nudged her with an elbow. "Eat, tiny. You earned it. We all heard you earning it."
Minne squeaked and hid behind a strawberry the size of her palm.
Kim reached over and ruffled Minne’s damp hair. "Welco to the chaos, babe."
I looked around the table—five beautiful, insane won laughing, stealing food, bickering, alive—and felt sothing settle warm in my chest.
Yeah. Normal was pretty fucking perfect.
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There she was again. That woman with the black umbrella. This ti I was in the city, a neon-soaked nightmare, rain hamring down like bullets, every surface reflecting pink and violet signs. She stood across the street at the bus stop, umbrella tilted just enough to hide her face completely.
I stepped to the crosswalk. The light stayed red. One minute. Two. The rain blurred everything.
A bus hissed to a stop. People surged forward. She moved with them, swallowed by the crowd.
"Wait—" I muttered. "Hey, wait!"
I bolted into the street. A sedan swerved, horn blaring. I dodged, heart in my throat, but a motorcycle ca out of nowhere—too fast, too close. The impact slamd into
like a freight train.
Then I jerked awake.
"Holy shit..."
Drool on my sleeve, arms numb from sleeping on them. I was slumped over my desk in the secretary station outside Nala’s office. The dream clung to
like damp clothes. Sa woman, sa umbrella. Ever since the goddesses showed up, she kept appearing. Coincidence? I didn’t believe in those anymore.
Footsteps. Marcus Hale strode off the elevator, clutching a thick folder stuffed to bursting—Phoenix Project docs, no doubt. The guy radiated stress and cheap cologne.
"Hey," he said, stopping at my desk. "Is Nala in?"
"Yep." I nodded at the folder. "Phoenix Project?"
"Yeah. Important." He was already moving.
"She’s on a call right now," I called after him. "Might have to wait a couple minutes."
"It’s urgent."
"I’ll let her know, maybe—"
He was already marching past . I grabbed the desk phone, hit the intercom, but the door to her office clicked shut behind him. Great. New guy gets ignored. Classic.
I exhaled, leaned back in my chair, and nearly jumped when Alia appeared in front of —sharp blazer, red hair pinned up, looking like she hadn’t slept either.
"Evan." She gave
a tight smile. "Nala in?"
"Yep. Marcus just barged in."
Alia sighed. "I need to talk to her too. It’s...""
"Urgent?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah." She glanced toward the closed door, then lowered her voice. "We’ve got a mole."
I straightened. "A mole?"
"Soone inside the company is feeding confidential data to an outside competitor—schematics, financials, tilines, everything. Security flagged irregular access patterns two nights ago. Whoever it is has high-level credentials."
"Shit. Any suspects?"
"Not yet. Could be anyone with executive or R&D clearance. That’s thirty-seven people, including Marcus, including , including the board." She folded her arms. "We’re locking down systems today. Nala needs to sign off on a full audit and temporary credential freeze."
"Phoenix Project files specifically?" I asked.
"Primarily. Whoever it is wants us dead in the water before launch."
"Damn..."
"I’ll join Marcus. The more pressure we put on her at once, the faster we move."
"Be my guest," I said, gesturing toward the door.
She walked past
and disappeared into Nala’s office without knocking.
I leaned back again, staring at the ceiling.
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