Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 161

Clara glanced over at Dylan, her eyes brimming with urgency. "Mr. Dylan, I promise I didn't mean to. After those three glasses of wine, my mind just went completely blank."

Dylan sat silently in his wheelchair, his back turned towards her, not saying a word.

Clara's cheeks flushed with desperation as she watched Aiden prepare to wheel Dylan away. "Mr. Dylan," she called out again.

Finally, Dylan turned his head. His clothes were straightened and his expression was calm. "I know you didn't mean it."

Clara nodded quickly, but she couldn't shake the feeling that his expression had darkened even more.

Rooted to the spot, all she could do was watch helplessly as Dylan was wheeled away. The business partners followed suit, leaving the once-bustling room eerily silent.

Clara dropped into a chair, the alcohol's aftereffects hitting her hard. Her stomach churned unpleasantly. She sat there for about ten minutes, expecting the staff to come in and tidy up. But then, unexpectedly, the lights dimmed, and before she could adjust to the darkness, someone pulled her against the wall. A man's commanding presence enveloped her.

She tried to open her bleary eyes to figure out who it was, but everything stayed a blur. Suddenly, her lips were captured in a kiss. Her eyes widened in shock as her hands instinctively pushed against the man's chest.

The alcohol made her body unresponsive like a limp noodle. The lack of oxygen made her dizzy, and she felt herself being lifted. Her legs wrapped instinctively around the man's waist.

The sensation was surreal, a blur between dream and reality. The man's intense energy was overwhelming like a beast finally unleashed. Clara couldn't escape, nor could she resist that powerful aura.

Her neck was held, her chin tilted upwards. The suffocation was too much, and she blacked out again.

When she came to, she was still in the same room, the decor unchanged, but an hour had passed. She rubbed her temples, half-laughing at herself. How could she have dreamed such a wild fantasy while drunk? Was she really that desperate for male attention?

Everyone said she'd been Simon's devoted admirer for years. Simon dismissed her, and no other man seemed to have entered her life. At her age, yearning for intimacy was normal. There was nothing to feel guilty about.

She sighed, feeling parched. As she tried to stand, her legs nearly buckled. Her body was still weak as if she'd just emerged from a deep, oxygen-starved sleep. She frowned, steadying herself against the chair for a long moment.

As she stepped out of the room, she realized the entire floor was deserted, as if everyone had cleared out. She entered the elevator, leaning against the wall with a yawn, feeling inexplicably exhausted. She’s ready to collapse.