Emma
I woke slowly, the kind of wake-up that only came after a night of pure satisfaction. The room was still dim, washed in soft gray morning light from outside. The storm was still going, the windows frosted, the city beyond them blanketed in silence. Christmas Eve in Chicago and the whole world had stopped.
Jack’s arm was slung around my waist, holding me close against him, my back to his front. I could feel his breath, warm and steady against the back of my neck, his body curled around mine.
For a moment, I just stayed there. The weight of his arm. The rise and fall of his chest behind me. The soreness between my thighs that made me smile into the pillow. I was filled with an unbelievable sense of peace.
Turning carefully in his arms, I studied his sleeping face. His features were
