Chapter 03
The kitchen smelled like coffee and fresh bread, but I barely tasted any of it. My pulse was still erratic from last night, from Daniel’s hands and his body grinding me against the couch while Michael whistled a tune over scrambled eggs.
Now it was morning again, and Michael was outside in the garden trimming hedges, humming the same damn song, his back to the window. He couldn’t see me in here—but he was close. Too close.
I didn’t hear Daniel walk in. I just felt him.
His chest pressed to my back, his breath hot against my neck. “Alone again,” he whispered, his voice a dangerous purr.
“Stop.” My hands gripped the edge of the counter, but I didn’t move away. “He’s right there.”
Daniel’s hands slid under my robe, his fingers grazing the inside of my thighs until I shivered.
