Quintessa couldn't deny it-Tyrone was drop-dead gorgeous. Among all the men she knew, none could hold a candle to him. And she certainly didn't mind his kisses.

Even as Tyrone's lips met hers, Quintessa felt a shiver of desire ripple through her body.

But this was just a game of adult attraction, a dance of hormones. Quintessa's mind was sharper than anyone's rationality.

She wasn't about to let Tyrone claim her body so hastily. She knew he probably wouldn't cherish her if things went down this way. Quintessa hadn't expected to walk away from their encounters unscathed every time, but she certainly didn't want it to happen in such a reckless manner.

She had her own plans. If she were to give in, it would be on her terms.

If she were to surrender, she wanted to be unforgettable to Tyrone, and to be the only woman he'd ever think of again, not just another notch on his bedpost.

to her neck, but Quintessa didn't struggle. Instead, she watched him coolly; in her

unclasp her bra, she felt despair creep in, but just

heard Mr. York

witnessed the

in a futile attempt to stop her. She had barged in

back, "Uh. Mr. York, my

could vanish on the

these two would dare to get frisky in broad daylight,

sink. She had just

run, but meeting Quintessa's gaze, Violet

all, Quintessa was

stammered, "I'm sorry, I-I just heard Mr. York was here and I wanted to see you for a moment. I didn't expect to see you with Quinn." Compared to Tyrone's icy, murderous glare, Quintessa almost

a pity. You missed out on a lot of

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