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Chapter 11: Dripping with Desire
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Chapter 13: Waking In Chains
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... simple divider like he’d been etched there—one shoulder barely brushing against the fabric’s edge, his fingers twirling in that shy, nervous kind of way that looked so innocent it should’ve been illegal.
My chest gave this traitorous little catch—one of those tight squeezes right under the ribs that made you forget you were supposed to be breathing. I turned toward him, too fast, my bare feet slick on the tile.
Naturally, gravity decided to assert its dominance.
My heel ...
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