“Miles…” I whisper.His gaze flickers down to my lips, then further down to my breasts.Suddenly, he steps backwards an inch or two, only far enough to weave his hands into the space between us. He grabs the front of my blouse and rips it open. Buttons fly, stiches tear. He drags the pieces down my
When our senses slowly return we are side by side on the bed, panting and naked, staring up at the ceiling. Our sweat-slick bodies are too hot to cuddle just yet.Miles just came for the second time tonight and rubbed his spend all over my torso. I’m going to need a shower soon.Yet, before that, I
“I’ll leave you alone with your daughters to talk things over,” Mrs. Pine says to me as she, I, Iris, and Violet convene in the living room of the house for sale that we have been touring.“Thank you, Mrs. Pine,” I reply.Nodding, Mrs. Pine steps out the front door, closing it behind her.I turn to
I don’t have a good answer for Hugo, especially not right now when I just nearly put myself in extreme potentially life-threatening danger.Hugo continues to gape at me.“Sorry,” I say. “I wasn’t thinking…”I lower my head, noticing Hugo’s arm still wrapped protectively around my waist. He notices i
After my lunch with Hugo, I begin to ignore Miles’s calls and texts. Since meeting him the other night, I haven’t always known what to say. I would respond to his messages with simple replies or cute smiley faces. He’s been busy so that’s helped me from divulging too much before I was ready.But now
“Not a bedroom,” I say at once.Miles’s face goes carefully blank.Cynthia raises both of her brows. “Uh, oh. Okay. You guys stay here then. I’ll go read in my bedroom.” Grabbing her wine glass, Cynthia pushes herself up onto her feet and exits the kitchen.The instant she leaves the room, Miles wal
Next morning at work, I feel like a zombie. I slept last night, finally, though it was more a collapse out of necessity than anything restful. I certainly don’t feel rested this morning, dragging my sluggish body through the office doors and to my cubicle.After flopping down into my desk chair, I e
“I… uh…” I begin, somewhat flabbergasted.Paige, who in part, has seemed to witness this exchange, hurries to my defense.“Mrs. George! I would be happy to refill your champagne for you.” Paige reaches for the glass, but Mrs. George pulls it back from her grasp. “Your glass, ma’am. Please.”“I want