Chapter 8

Hermes POV

What the fuck.

No.

No.

No.

This is not what I meant when I said, “Wear something more appropriate.”

Fuck.

I did this to myself.

She’s completely covered. Neck to ankles. Not a single hint of skin, no collarbone, no sliver of thigh, not even a wrist.

Now I have to undress her with my imagination.

Which is worse.

I swallow hard, forcing my expression blank as I move toward my office.

And why the hell is she staring at me like that? Like she’s waiting for a compliment?

Jesus Christ. Don’t look at her.

I grip the door handle too tightly.

How the fuck am I supposed to survive today?

Last night, I tried to fix the problem with my own hands.

She was pretty — the girl. I don’t remember her name. Brielle? Bianca? Something with a soft “B” that melted on her tongue when she moaned.

I brought her to the same hotel I took June to – reset the obsession –

She was alr