What are you doing, Nita?" David asked, a nervous smile on his face as he watched her walked down from the stairs.
Girls stood around the living room like fashion dolls. Everywhere he turned, there was a woman that made his throat bob and his palms sweat.
They didn't speak.
They didn't smile.
Didn't move. They just bowed to him in sync. "Welcome home, Mr. Blackwood."
Each one of them was like a painting brought to life. Flawless skin, glassy eyes, bodies that looked carved by temptation itself, dressed tastefully in tailored black and white suit skirt, shirt, and blazer that somehow made them more alluringly threatening than anything short and revealing ever could.
David shifted uncomfortably, glancing at one near the fireplace who tilted her head slightly, as if taking mental notes. Another stood near the bar, hands folded delicately in front of her, but her eyes? Soft.
