“Perfect timing,” a voice like warm velvet growls from an open door across the hallway. “Come on in, Cupcake. Join us. I like your outfit, by the way.”
I turn around slowly, imagining Alastaire sprawled out on the bedroom floor, lying nude on a polar bear rug with a red rose between his teeth, surrounded by a harem of n***d girls he somehow smuggled into the cabin. That’s what the sultry ‘come hither’ tone of his voice brings to mind, anyway.
The reality isn’t quite that, but it’s pretty close.
Alastaire’s sitting on the edge of his bed. He’s wearing slouchy grey sweat pants, but he’s n***d from the waist up, and I catch a glimpse of his chiseled chest and toned arms, a beautiful light tan despite him spending the past month in the eternally gloomy shade of the forest.
He’s drying his
