Chapter53 Get Down and Lean Over
Getting the man's definite "Okay" stunned Miranda, and the heat in her cheeks flared up again.
She hadn't expected Clifton to agree so readily.
She cleared her throat, masking the strange panic rising in her chest, and extended a slightly trembling hand. Her fingertips gently touched the first button of his shirt.
Beneath the cool button was the man's hot chest. Her finger accidentally brushed his warm skin, sending a subtle shiver through her.
Miranda forced herself to focus, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, one button at a time.
As the shirt opened, the man's solid, muscular chest was exposed completely. The muscle lines were smooth, powerful, and well-defined, full of strength. Further down were his taut abs and the sexy V-line disappearing into his dress pants.
Just as she was staring, that beautiful chest muscle actually twitched slightly right in front of her.
Miranda's breath caught. She asked almost automatically, "How do you keep your physique so great?"
She instantly regretted the question. Given Clifton's current condition—his lack of mobility in his legs—she thought he probably couldn't exercise. Would asking that touch a nerve?
Clifton's gaze was deep, unreadable, but his answer was smooth: "I have a dedicated fitness coach who set up a detailed upper-body workout plan. I usually train in the gym downstairs."
"Oh, I see," Miranda said, nodding in understanding.
Looking at his sculpted arm, she impulsively reached out and tentatively felt the muscle on his bicep.
"Wow..." she murmured, a small gasp escaping her lips. "You've maintained it really well."
It was firm, strong, and full of explosive power.
The woman's fingertips were soft and slightly cool, moving over his skin like a feather. That fleeting touch, however, felt like an electric current, instantly surging through his entire body.
Clifton felt a tingling sensation shoot from his tailbone straight to the top of his head. His body instantly tensed, and his Adam's apple bobbed.
Miranda didn't notice the man's reaction at all. She retracted her hand, picked up the white shirt meant to go with the peaked-lapel suit, went around behind him, and helped him put it on.
"The color really suits you," she said, adjusting his collar before moving back to the front to fasten the buttons.
But it was only when she secured the first one that she noticed the problem.
The shirt seemed to be a little too small.
Once buttoned, it stretched tightly across the man's torso, outlining the contours of his chest muscles even more clearly. It was full of tension, as if it would burst open at any moment.
Miranda frowned and tugged at the placket. "That's weird. I ordered it based on the size the butler gave me... It looks like it doesn't fit right. Let's take it off."
As she spoke, she reached out to undo the button she had just fastened on Clifton's chest. Unfortunately, the button was strained tight against the muscle. Her slender fingers tried several times, the tips turning slightly red, but she couldn't get it loose.
Miranda didn't realize that in her struggle with the stubborn button, her body had unconsciously leaned forward, and at some point, her knees were resting on the man's firm thighs.
This position enveloped her completely in his scent.
Clifton felt the soft weight of the woman's body. The air was filled with her faint, sweet fragrance, and her warm breath fanned his chest—it felt like lighting a fuse.
His breathing deepened involuntarily.
Clifton knew his willpower was normally ironclad; he could execute a mission without flinching even with a gunshot wound. But he was finding that his famed self-control seemed to vanish instantly whenever Miranda was involved.
His body was burning, his blood was racing, and every inch of his skin, every cell, seemed to be wildly screaming for this woman in front of him.
"Pop—!"
With a soft noise, the shirt button was finally ripped open by the tension of his muscles. It flew off and fell onto the carpet.
Miranda was slightly startled, thinking, How could this high-end custom shirt have such poor quality?
Just as she was about to explain to Clifton, she looked up and was caught off guard by a pair of eyes burning with intense desire. The look was like a beast that had been lying in wait, finally showing its claws.
Danger.
Miranda's heart skipped a beat. She finally realized how close she was to him, and how intimate their position had become! Her face instantly flushed crimson. She struggled to get off his lap.
But the man seemed to instantly read her intention.
Before she could move, Clifton's left hand shot out, accurately clamping down on her wrist. He pulled back, pinning both of her hands behind her.
"Ah..."
Miranda gasped. The sudden movement forced her chest out, making her curves appear even fuller in that position. She was mortified and angry, struggling as she spoke: "Clifton! Let go of me!"
Clifton's gaze, however, was searing hot, locked on the ripe fullness of her chest. He was getting hotter, his throat desperately dry. Staring at her chest, his voice was raw and ragged.
"Tonight, use this to help me, okay?"
Though it was phrased as a question, Miranda felt an undeniable command in the man's unyielding tone. Following his gaze, she looked down and instantly understood what he meant. Her face immediately turned a deep, fiery red.
"No!" She struggled without thinking, a cry in her voice. "I don't want to!"
Hearing the woman's words of resistance and alarm, the darkness in Clifton's eyes intensified, and a surge of displeasure rose within him.
Miranda was kneeling on his lap, a position that clearly put her above him. Clifton lowered his head slightly, and his hot lips accurately found her flat, soft lower belly through the thin fabric of her clothes.
"!"
The wet, warm sensation on her body made Miranda shiver instantly. She instinctively looked down and saw the man's dark head buried against her front. The sight stirred a peculiar feeling inside her. It was as if the always-aloof and controlling Clifton was petitioning her in a posture that felt close to submission.
Sensing the woman's body tremble, Clifton kissed harder, as if punishing and soothing at the same time. Though he didn't say a word, Miranda felt he was forcing her to agree through this primal, direct method.
Just as she was distracted, she felt the large hands restraining her wrists loosen. Miranda gasped for air and immediately placed her hands on the man's head, trying to push him away.
But before she could exert any force, Clifton's free hand clamped around her waist, holding her tightly, making it impossible for her to move.
She felt Clifton's kisses slowly, gradually moving down...
Miranda felt like she was losing her mind. She abandoned all shame and spoke urgently: "Fine! I'll help you! Just... just let go of me first!"
The moment the words left her mouth, Miranda felt the grip on her body instantly relax.
Then, Clifton lifted his head, his eyes stained with desire locked on her. His voice was utterly husky.
"Get down."
He paused, then added a few more words.
"Lean over."