That kind of alluring voice seeps into the bones—if it were any other man, wouldn't he have already thrown the lady onto the bed?
Grace's fingers were just about to tug at the knot of his robe when John's pupils remained calm, showing no sign of arousal.
Did she lose her charm?
But a while ago, when she casually twisted her waist, he…
Grace wrapped her arms around his neck, deliberately rubbing against him.
Before she could cause more trouble, John suddenly caught her hand. He smirked at her. "So, is this what Miss Quinn calls 'treat me'?"
Grace stammered, "W-What else? Should I… do a backflip for you instead?"
After all, everything she knew in this department—was taught by John Amster. He was practically her initiation instructor.
