The Internship: A New Romance (Vol 1)

I tremble when he touches the nape of my neck. He does this thing—the thing. Thousands of goose bumps prickle down my arms and down the crease of my ass. His whispers suck the air out of my lungs. How could a man wearing Gaultier cufflinks deliver such an aching blow? His backhand was worse than a bullet. I collapse face first onto the floor, and he rips the seams of my Dior cocktail dress. My weak knees buckled when I tried to stand.