Dating the Bossy CEO Next Door
Chapter 8 - 08- my style
Morrison hit send.
Along with the photo—shirtless, in her bed, grinning like the smug bastard he was—he’d added a couple lines of text:
Your underwear’s way too conservative.
Next time, I’m taking you shopping—my style.
He could practically see Lilian’s face right now.
Wide eyes. Flaming cheeks. Shaking fingers. Probably hurling her phone across the room while shouting his full name in fury.
The mental image made him laugh out loud.
Serves her right.
After all the times she’d bruised his ego—especially that unforgettable moment when she deadpan diagnosed his sweaty palms as a sign of kidney deficiency—this was payback.
Petty?
Sure.
Childish?
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