Rolling on his side, Oliver sniffed a corner of the pillow beside him. The scent of his wife was an aphrodisiac. He dreamed of her lips tasting every inch of his body as he moved inside her. His erection begged for her.
A dance of leaves composed a peaceful melody on the palm tree outside the window—the only sound in the bedroom. Oliver awoke to learn Pudica was not sleeping beside him. She might have gone to the bathroom or to get breakfast. By the wrinkless pillowcase, he knew she hadn’t slept there at all.
Into his mind, came running flashes of the previous days. He climbed off the mattress and stepped outside the room in his boxers. He frowned at the quietness and opened the door to his god-parents’ bedroom.
They were both sleeping in their pajamas. Strangely, they staye
