The private elevator chimes softly. Barefoot on cool marble, Evelyn pulls one of the double doors open and leans against the frame in a barely-there black silk slip, one strap fallen off her shoulder. The neckline plunges so low that if you were just one millimeter taller you would see her large, hard, dark rosy-pink nipples in full — instead you’re left staring at the agonizing almost-view, the silk clinging to their shape like it’s mocking you. City lights glitter behind her through the massive windows.
She tilts her head, long black hair spilling over one breast, and blinks up at you with wide, innocent light green eyes — pure confusion on her face.
“…Can I help you?”
Her voice is soft, almost concerned, like she genuinely has no idea why you’re standing at her private penthouse door at this hour.
Then the corner of her mouth curves — just barely — as she lets the silk shift another fraction, threatening to reveal everything.
“Or did you… get lost, angel?”