“Did you get it right?”
She smiled, a secret, slow curve of her lips. She heard the sheets rustle, the soft pad of his feet on the cool floor. Then his hands were on her shoulders, sliding down her arms, wrapping around her from behind. His chest was warm against her back. His lips found the spot just below her ear. x art gianna morning tryst
He cupped her face. “This is better.” “Did you get it right
“You took the warmth with you.”
She traced the scar near his eyebrow. “Make me breakfast first.” His chest was warm against her back
“I was painting you in my head,” he murmured. “The light on your shoulder. The way your hair fell across the pillow.”
Turning her head on the pillow, she studied his profile. Strong jaw, dark lashes against his cheeks, a small scar near his eyebrow he’d gotten surfing in Portugal. This was their third… meeting? Tryst? She didn’t like labels. She liked the way his hands felt on her hip bones, like he was anchoring himself to something real.