She and Nathan stood in the image, side by side, captured in a moment of timeless elegance and quiet happiness. His fingers hooked under the waistband of her panties, just a teasing brush at first, the tips barely grazing her skin. One she’d seen a thousand times but had never really thought about until now. The door swung open, and Nathan Caldwell stepped inside. Her own hand drifted downward, fingers seeking the swollen ache of her clit. She refused to acknowledge her, but the heat creeping up the back of her neck was enough of a giveaway. Claire sagged against the desk, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Maya, her best friend from across the hall, was leaning in her own doorway, arms crossed, lips curved into a knowing smirk. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, dark eyes scanning the room with that signature air of effortless authority. A wedding photo. There was no use pretending. The first brush of contact sent a fresh wave of tension rippling through her. The heat of him, the sheer
