Chapter 18 Blackmail (3)

• Claire was lying there, ass up, the gown riding high enough to show the smooth curve where her thighs met her cheeks. The sight hit me like a punch, all that soft, perfect skin begging to be touched. My mop clattered against the bucket, forgotten, and I moved closer, steps silent on the damp floor. She didn’t see me—too lost in her phone, humming some little tune under her breath. My hands itched, pulse pounding in my ears, and before I could think it through, I reached out and squeezed her ass. Fuck, it was soft—softer than I’d dreamed, like sinking my fingers into warm silk. My dick jumped, already straining again, and I could’ve stayed there forever, kneading that flesh.
• She whipped around fast, a gasp tearing out of her as the phone hit the bed. “What the hell, Andy?!” Her voice was sharp, eyes blazing, but there was a flush creeping up her neck that said something else. She sat up, clutching the gown to her chest, those nipples still poking through like little traitors. “You’re out of your damn mind—get out!”
• I didn’t move. Instead, I smirked, slow and nasty, letting it sink in that I wasn’t scared of her anymore. I pulled my phone out, thumbing it to life, and held it up so she could see the frozen frame—her lips around Jerry, mid-suck, unmistakable. Her eyes widened, face draining pale, and I let the silence stretch, heavy and thick. “Wonder what Mr. Hargrove would think of this,” I said, voice low, taunting. “His perfect wife, his best friend… all caught on tape.”