BOOK 3: Chapter 4: Temptation at Midnight
The apartment sleeps beneath a veil of moonlight, shadows folded into the corners like secrets waiting to be told. The hallway is hushed, still, but not cold. There’s a certain kind of warmth in the air—low and lingering, the residue of something unspoken.
She slips from the bed, careful not to wake Gregory. His breathing is deep, steady, the kind of sleep that comes easily to the content or the blissfully unaware.
She isn’t either of those.
Her mouth is dry, her heart restless. That familiar tightness behind her sternum hasn’t eased—not since dinner, not since the graze of fingers beneath linen and the way her body had betrayed her, opening to touch it should have resisted. Even now, her thighs pulse with memory, with shame, with want.
She do
