Morrison let out a long sigh, raking a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Sorry…"
Even he was a little startled by what he'd just blurted out. Marry her? Where the hell had that come from?
Lilian shot him a furious glare.
"You're always saying sorry, but you never actually stop doing it!"
Every time they met, he'd take some kind of advantage of her. Every single time.
And every time, he'd say, "I won't do it again."
But then next time? He'd just go further—more shameless, more out of line.
Morrison didn't even know what was wrong with him anymore.
The moment he was around her, all self-control just flew out the window.
He noticed the smudge in her lipstick and motioned lazily toward the inner room.
"There's a lounge inside. Go fix your makeup in the mirror. I'll have someone take you to HR afterward."
It was clearly an attempt to change the subject—and honestly, he needed it too.
A certain part of his body was still... reacting.
