straight up to the middle of his belly, where a little pool of precome had formed just below his navel. A wicked tremor raced through her body, but she ignored it, at least for now. “Cognac? Water? Something else?”
“There’s bottled water in the fridge,” he said, his eyes closed again. It was entirely too tempting to pet him. He looked so...tense.
She realized as she sat up that she had no robe with her, and putting on her dress seemed weird. But there was his shirt, and lucky her, it smelled like him. A kind of woodsy something that was exactly right. She’d noticed it when she’d sniffed his neck.
The trip to the fridge was over quickly. As soon as she’d opened the door, she wondered if he ate all his meals out. There was plenty of beer, a good supply of water, large jars of chunky peanut butter and strawberry jam. A loaf of bread was in there, too, as was a knife. Guess when he wanted his PB&J, he wanted it right that second.
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