Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 3: Through the Door

Ethan Blackwood’s bold and straightforward words made Claire Shaw’s face flush and heart race.

On the bed, this man always acted more than spoke, and most of their verbal exchanges were "go easier" and "slower."

She used to think he was steady and diligent, little did she know he had a string of sweet words ready to go, making Claire unable to resist.

The atmosphere grew increasingly ambiguous, and Claire calmly stated, "Mr. Blackwood, I think I’ve made myself clear, the game is over."

The hand on her waist gently caressed her, as the man bit the tender flesh of her earlobe, "Can you really let go?"

Claire’s body trembled instinctively, yet she maintained a stern face: "Mr. Blackwood, I’m not interested in meddling in others’ affairs, this is the women’s locker room, please leave immediately."

Ethan Blackwood scrutinized her, she didn’t seem like a typical woman at all.

He was her first man, and she enjoyed it when they were in bed, now she was ready to end things immediately.

Clean and decisive, not a trace of hesitation, there wasn’t a hint of melancholy in her eyes.

"But I’m not like Ms. Shaw, I like meddling, I like watching Ms. Shaw sweat profusely, clutching my neck and saying no."

The man’s roguish and unrestrained demeanor was in stark contrast to the tense Claire.

The footsteps outside grew clearer, and Mia Hughes’ voice called out, "Ms. Shaw, are you in there?"

Claire was just about to respond when she realized her dress zipper had been pulled down, slender fingertips lingered along her bra clasp.

The sensation almost made her cry out.

Claire was in a panic, admittedly she had become somewhat infatuated with this sturdy man recently, who always left her feeling like she was soaring through the clouds.

But she had no intention of broadcasting it live in front of her colleagues!

Claire’s entire body tensed up, she bit her lip hard, not daring to make a sound, her eyes clearly pleading.

Her pitiable appearance greatly amused Ethan Blackwood.

The corner of the man’s mouth curved into a dangerous arc, "Ms. Shaw, the power to end the game is with me."

He lowered his voice, the hot breath he exhaled made Claire’s body shiver.

Outside, the murmuring voices of colleagues reached her ears, "Strange, I clearly saw Claire come in, where is she?"

Mia, not getting a response, turned the door handle, Claire’s voice came through, "Mia, I’m changing clothes."

The voice contained a barely detectable panic, heaven knows she was holding onto Ethan Blackwood’s suit tightly at that moment to steady herself.

Mia, carefree at heart, didn’t notice her anomaly at all, in a starstruck tone, "Claire, I think the handsomest today is Mason’s dad, don’t you agree? Tall and handsome, tsk tsk, that body proportion is incredible, broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, I bet he has abs, if not an eight-pack, at least a six-pack!"

Gossiping is a natural trait for girls, and normally Claire would join in casually for a few words.

But today, the person being gossiped about was right in front of her! How could Claire respond?

Not getting a reply, Mia was visibly unsatisfied, she knocked on the door, "Claire, what do you say?"

At that moment, Claire was confined by Ethan Blackwood, the temperature in the cramped changing room gradually rising.

The man kissed her neck, the loose dress slipped off her shoulders, revealing Claire’s round, fair shoulders.

She tilted her neck high like an elegant swan.

Under the man’s aggressive assault, Claire’s breath was a little unsteady: "I don’t really know."

A soft laugh came from the man next to her ear as he guided her small hand to his waist.

"Count them."

Claire feared being exposed and had no room to struggle, she could only be led by the man.

Smooth palm pressed onto the bumpy yet scorching hot abs.

The heat rose, she could even sense a layer of lingering vapor on the man’s skin.

From top to bottom, one by one.

Mia clearly wasn’t satisfied with gossiping alone, "Guess, is it a six-pack or an eight-pack?"

Claire closed her eyes, resigned to her fate, answered, "Eight-pack."

"I thought so too, he looks like the type who appears thin in clothes but muscular without them, Claire, isn’t this exactly the kind you like! Overflowing with hormones, full of sexual tension."

Claire blushed, recalling how Mia kindly comforted her when she found out she was cheated on by a jerk, Claire simply said, "I wasn’t that upset, I don’t like skinny guys like Owen Crawford."

"Then what kind do you like? I’ll introduce you to someone later."

Claire was browsing videos, casually pointing to a short clip showing a faceless blogger’s six-pack abs: "I like this kind, full of sexual tension, strong."

Now, bringing this up in front of Ethan Blackwood, Claire’s toes almost curled up in embarrassment. She hurriedly found an excuse to dismiss Mia: "Fine, you go back first."

From outside came the sound of Mia bouncing away.

Only then did Claire relax her body, exhaling a long breath.

Soon she realized she relaxed too soon!

Ethan Blackwood leaned in, his dark pupils filled with desire, "Baby, it turns out you like someone like me."

Claire was about to retort when she felt her hand fall into the man’s scorching palm.

The next second, her small hand was placed on his belt.

The back of her hand felt the heat of the man’s palm, while the palm experienced the cold of the metal buckle, under the dual stimuli, Claire’s face turned crimson, even her neck sported a faint pink hue, enticingly so.

Ethan Blackwood held her waist with one hand, grasping her wrist with the other, fingers gently caressing the delicate inside of her wrist, his deep voice rippling in Claire’s ear: "Baby, unbuckle it for me."