Kat Pov at the nude art museum in Rome
He wheeled ahead. I followed.
The next room was hotter. Literally. Steam hissed through vents. Low music vibrated through the marble floors. A curved sofa sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by hanging vines and slow, writhing bodies. It was like stepping into a dream built by temptation.
He sat. I stood.
"Sit," he said.
I sat beside him.
A woman with bare breasts poured champagne into our flutes. Her fingers brushed his. He didn’t flinch, but his eyes were on me.
I drank.
Another couple kissed across from us. Slow. Beautiful. She was on her knees, trailing her fingers over his thigh. They watched us. Everyone watched everyone.
"This place is insane," I whispered.
He smirked. "This place is honest."
My dress suddenly felt tighter. My
