Chapter 283

Prescott Ellington stirred. Camila Harrington froze. Her cheeks flushed red, though even she couldn’t tell if it was from anger or pure embarrassment. She tried yanking her hand free from his grip, but for some reason, this man had her locked down tight. She didn’t dare use too much force either—what if he woke up? How the heck was she supposed to explain this situation? Glaring at him with a mix of frustration and helplessness, she braced herself and just got on with pulling his pants off. Something that should’ve taken two seconds somehow ended with her sweating all over. As for the innermost layer... yeah, she wasn’t even going there. "Prescott Ellington, let go! I need to grab some clothes for you," she said, pitching her voice louder as she tossed his suit pants onto the floor. But Prescott stayed motionless, completely knocked out. Figures. After however many rounds of hardcore liquor, it was a miracle he hadn’t passed out on the street. Bet she could toss him into a pigsty right