Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir

105. Accuser

“It’s not what it looks like!” I screech, thrusting my hands in front of me desperately in order to somehow reverse this misunderstanding, “I swear. I’m just taking care of something!”

Apparently, that is the bad thing to say, because the man’s eyes widen, and an utterly horrified expression dawns on his face, and I expect him to clutch his imaginary pearls any second now. He shuffles back towards the door before gasping, “oh, God, have you no decency at all? This is a public building, sir, and you’re in a place where anyone can just wander in.” And then he growls, looking mad, “Are you one of those freaks who actually get off on people walking in on you? Is this it? Did you make me an unwilling participant in your sick fantasy?!”

“Jesus Christ, man, you have some imagination,” I can’t help but say because what? Who the hell jumps to that conclusion first when he stumbles across a half-naked man in a bathroom? “And for the record, no! Of course not, I wasn't doing anything sexual!”

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