The Great Ball Escape (Rewrite)

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Three.

Two.

One.

Closet and closer he stalked toward me. That's when I realized that he wasn't trying to find me, but that he was going into another of his rendezvous with his men.

I needed to think of something, and fast.

"Otherwise, you'll end up as a Lilly hamburger, or chewed to pieces like a special Linton Doggy treat! Wait, what is that in his pocket? My God, is that a gun? Did Mr. Ambrose carry guns, how come I didn't feel it when I was -

Pressed against his strong, muscular thighs, sighing in pleasure. Tingles ran up my spine, all screaming the message: Oh My Gad what is happening this is awesome what is happening where is my inner feminists again. WHO CARES....mphhg?

I coughed. Not helping at all brain. Sighing, I turned back to the minuscule problem of me being tortured to death.

My mind raced, what could drive Lord Dagliesh away from a top secret meeting with his men?

A brilliant answer came to me: People, yes of course, he wouldn't want people to hear his evil master plans.

And the most disgusting kind of people to me... A picture of my sister and Edmund came to mind, followed by love words and kisses. Yes, that kind of vulgar display would certainly drive him away.

I pressed my self against the curtain and moved in a very suggestive pattern. The footsteps stopped. I added some sounds of male grunts (more like high pitched whines) and heavy breathing (sounding like someone going through his death throes) and the footsteps started backing away.

I smirked, although mortally embarrassed.

Then, just for effect, I added some pleasurable moans. I had just a little teensy weeny experience with moans.

A hard body pressing against me. Glorious hard muscle flexing beneath my touch, mouths intertwined together, heated breath trailing down my skin...

Stop it! I chided myself, now was not the time for foolish fantasies.

But it's not a foolish fantasy, it's the marvelous reality! My inner voice protested. I shook my head, focus, Lilly, on the present.

Glancing out, I saw Lord Dagliesh looking at my curtain in disgust, and backing away. I wondered if Mr. Ambrose would do the same. I doubted it, he wouldn't bat an eye. His granite face would remain icy calm.

But sometimes, he is hawt! My inner voice whispered again.

I blushed.

What had happened to my inner feminist? Help, my true inner fighter has been captured and replaced by this giggling, romantic teenage girl!

I searched deep inside myself for my angry flame against male dominance, but found instead a flame of fiery passion, passion for the one and only Mr. Am - what was I saying again?

I blame my little sister and the sappy love stories I've been reading.

Scratch that, it's Mr. Ambrose's fault. It always is.

Curse scrumptious, amazingly muscled body, wait, I mean his icy demeanor and impossibly cold personality!

Hot hands trailed down my back, warm breathes expelled through my hair. Warmth pooled down between my thighs, I felt like I was about to go up in flames!

Fine, he could be nice sometimes, and passionate, and cute, and probably good in bed?

Lilly, you are turning into those kind of women!

Alright, his face is a slab of granite, his chest is a slab of rock, and his heart is a slab of.... air?

Hard muscle bunched and released. Those flexing bands of power, chiseled to perfection, truly a work of art carved by some great artists like Leonardo Da Vinci. Wait, did he carve statues?

I was such a loser for thinking like this. I am betraying all my important ideals. Mr. Ambrose is a jerk.

Mr. Ambrose = hard work!

And with that, I headed to his office for some more hard work.

Fun!

Nothing like a hard days work to keep you grounded from delicious daydreams of a very handsome man named Mr. Ambrose with his -

Ugh!

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