Fitch's pupils contracted sharply, his breathing uneven.

Zoey, on the other hand, looked on with longing. "I really want to go in there. It feels like something is calling me."

Fitch remained silent.

Zoey reached for the car door, intent on seeing for herself.

Suddenly, her wrist was grasped firmly, and Fitch pulled her into his embrace.

The assistant in the front had wisely raised the divider, leaving them in their own private space in the back.

Held tightly in his arms, Zoey wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but she felt him trembling with fear.

But who was Fitch? The true scion of the Greenfield dynasty, sitting atop a vast fortune. How could he ever feel fear?

"Don't go," he uttered, holding her close.

Zoey didn't know what to say, forgetting even to struggle.

She couldn't understand Fitch's reaction, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

Fitch suddenly looked up, pressing her down.

His lips quickly found hers.

Zoey's eyes widened, pushing against him weakly.

nothing against his, sinking without

"Mmm, let go."

her waist tightened, and through the thin fabric, Zoey could feel his warmth pressing

with heat, forgetting to

she came to her

his large hand at her lower back, drawing them

hard to breathe, her

scenery blurring like a swaying landscape painting, too drained to even think about the building she had wanted to

hands becoming more brazen, she wished she

into the

embarrassment.

chin rested on his shoulder, her

refusing to think

SE

under her shirt, igniting

sheen of sweat

utterly at ease, his lips causing havoc

sharply, collapsing completely in his

when she realized what had happened, shame

couldn't believe she

shame, she began to

"Let go."

too skilled, she couldn't keep

even know where

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