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His breathing faltered, a wave of warmth surging through him so powerfully and unexpectedly that he barely managed to hold himself together. He yanked his hand back, seized by panic and confusion, and gripped the edge of the sink, fighting against sensations that felt completely alien, yet terrifyingly real. His body was responding in ways he’d never anticipated and, perhaps, never wanted to know. His heart pounded wildly, and his breath came in heavy, ragged gasps.
Garrett stood by the mirror, leaning over the sink, trying to steady his breathing. He struggled to focus, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his chest, the way his swollen nipples pressed against his shirt, sending fresh waves of strange, tingling sensations. His mind desperately tried to latch onto his thoughts, to regain control, as Levitt, realizing his mistake, tried to explain:
— Garrett, listen closely! — the doctor continued. — The effect is temporary. I repeat: temporary. With women, it usually lasts only a few hours… You just need to hide somewhere and wait it out. Garrett? Do you hear me? Just hold on and, whatever you do, don’t…
But Garrett barely heard him. All of Levitt’s advice drowned in the deep, pulsing sensations radiating from his own body. His thoughts were racing, mixed with sharp flashes of these new feelings. “Get a grip, damn it, Wilson!” he repeated to himself, focusing on his breathing, on the cool edge of the sink under his palms, on the need to detach himself, even for a moment, from the pain, the heat, the relentless warmth inside him.
And for a moment, he almost succeeded. The tingling on his skin seemed to subside, he almost managed to ignore the prickling in his boobs, despite the way his shirt still clung to every inch of his sensitive skin. He even managed to take a deep breath, barely holding back the fierce urge to tear off his shirt and free himself from this clingy feeling that grew more unbearable with each movement.
But then the bathroom door creaked open, and someone stepped inside—tall, authoritative, dressed in a suit. Garrett felt his whole body tense up, though he hadn’t yet turned to see who it was. The newcomer paused, casting a quick glance at the woman by the mirror. But as soon as their eyes met, Garrett recognized his enemy—Michael Reeves, one of his longtime competitors. The one who had spent years trying to steal contracts, undercut deals, and relish every one of Garrett’s failures.
— Reeves raised an eyebrow in surprise, his gaze sweeping over the stranger’s figure, lingering on her big tits, barely contained beneath the loose shirt, and on her rounded hips that were starting to fill out the slackened trousers. Garrett felt stripped bare under that look, and a spark of heat flared inside him. He flushed, feeling his body betray him with a strange tremor.