The next ti Ross ca over, Adele wasted no ti putting her plan into motion.
Desire burned inside her, an unrelenting hunger that had only grown stronger with each passing day.
She didn't just want any cock—she wanted his.
She needed Ross more than anything, and today, she would finally have him.
As soon as he walked through the door, she approached him with a sultry smile.
"Ross, can you help with sothing?" Her voice was sweet, almost innocent, though the heat in her eyes betrayed her true intentions.
Ross raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised.
This was a great change since Adele was clearly avoiding him like the plague before.
"Sure, Adele. What's up?"
Inside, he was amused. He had seen it coming from a mile away.
No woman—especially not one as stunning as Adele—could resist him forever. It was inevitable.
His presence, his confidence, and, most of all, his cock had a way of turning even the most proper won into needy, desperate creatures.
And Adele? She was already on the edge. He could feel it.
Her daughters were too preoccupied with the wedding planner to notice anything.
They were determined to make the event as grand as possible, and with money being no object—thanks to Ross—there were no limits to their lavish dreams.
"Co with ," Adele said, turning on her heel and walking toward the basent.
Ross followed, watching the sway of her hips, the way her dress clung to her body.
She was a masterpiece—elegant, sensual, and aching for what only he could give her.
Once they reached the basent, she led him to an old wooden ladder.
"Hold this for , will you? I just need to grab sothing from up top."
Ross stepped forward, gripping the sides of the ladder as Adele placed one foot on the bottom rung.
Slowly, she began to climb.
It was only then that he realized what she was wearing—a short, dangerously revealing skirt.
And as she ascended, his breath caught in his throat.
No panties.
His grip on the ladder tightened as he took in the sight before him.
Her bare, glistening pussy was on full display, teasing him, tempting him.
It was a deliberate move—he knew it. She wanted him to see. She wanted to drive him crazy.
And it was working.
Blood rushed south, his cock instantly hardening at the sheer audacity of it all.
This wasn't an accident. This wasn't a mistake. Adele wanted him to look.
His gaze lingered, drinking her in.
Her thighs, smooth and toned, trembled ever so slightly as she shifted her weight.
He could see everything—her arousal, her need, the silent invitation she was offering him without a single word.
Ross smirked, his pulse quickening.
So, she wanted to play gas?
Fine.
He would make her beg.
"Did you get it already, Adele?" Ross asked from below, his tone calm and patient.
"Almost. Just give a minute," Adele replied, her voice light and unhurried.
She wasn't actually looking for anything.
Her real goal was to give Ross a perfect, unobstructed view of her dripping, needy pussy.
She made sure to shift her weight just enough, tilting her hips ever so slightly, spreading her legs just a little wider, all under the guise of searching through the storage boxes above.
Surely, surely, Ross would take the hint. He was a man, after all.
A man with power, confidence, and the kind of cock that could make a woman forget everything but him.
Yet as the seconds turned into minutes, he remained frustratingly still. Silent.
Adele bit her lip, suppressing a small shiver of impatience.
Wasn't he tempted?
She had done everything to entice him—giving him a full, unfiltered view of her most intimate place, her soft folds glistening in the dim light.
Any other man would have lost control by now.
But Ross?
He simply held the ladder like a gentleman, unwavering, composed, as if nothing was happening.
Adele's frustration mounted.
She adjusted her position again, stretching her arms above her head, causing her skirt to ride up even further.
She even let out a small, breathy sigh as if struggling to reach sothing, hoping—begging—for him to react.
Still, nothing.
Ross was either the most disciplined man on earth or—unthinkably—he hadn't even looked.
Five agonizing minutes passed.
Adele had enough.
"This is not working," she muttered under her breath before descending the ladder, her hands empty, her patience gone.
Ross stepped back as she reached the floor, his expression unreadable.
"Did you find it?" he asked, his voice as steady as ever.
Adele exhaled sharply.
"No… it wasn't there," she answered, trying to mask her disappointnt.
Her gaze instinctively flicked downward.
Nothing.
No bulge. No sign that he had been even remotely aroused.
Adele's stomach twisted.
Had he really not noticed her? Had all her teasing been for nothing?
Her mind raced with possibilities. Maybe he truly hadn't looked.
Maybe he was too focused on being respectful, too controlled to let himself be swayed by such an obvious invitation.
A strange warmth spread through her chest.
He's really a good man… and I want him even more because of it.
She had underestimated him. Ross was different.
He wasn't like the other n she had known—the ones who would have jumped at the chance, who would have lost themselves the mont she spread her legs for them.
No, Ross wouldn't be tempted.
He had to be taken.
A slow smile spread across Adele's lips. The subtle approach had failed.
It was ti to be bold.
Ti to make him hers.
Adele locked eyes with Ross, her heart pounding in her chest.
She had thought about this mont for days, playing it over and over in her mind, searching for the right words.
Now that she stood before him, she realized words alone wouldn't be enough.
"Do you rember what happened to us at the lake, Ross?" she asked, her voice steady despite the nervous excitent curling in her stomach.
Ross's expression shifted, his usual confidence dimd by sothing more complicated—guilt, hesitation.
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