"Close your mouth, Frida. You'll catch flies," Laz teased, gently clamping her jaw shut.
Before she could respond, he scooped her out of the chair, and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.
Her gaze lingered on his lips, her desire evident. Laz chuckled softly, placing her on the bathroom counter. "If you keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, I can't be held accountable. In the end, I'm just a man."
From his back pocket, he withdrew a small, elegantly wrapped box. With a serious expression, he met her eyes. "Open your legs," he instructed softly.
Frida's breath hitched, her pulse quickening as she complied, parting her legs slowly. Laz's fingers brushed her sensitive folds, eliciting a soft gasp as he teased her. She bit her lip, closing her eyes as his touch ignited a fire within her.
