The first thing I notice as I stir is that I am not alone. The dawn hasn’t even begun to rise, so I know it is a little while before I have to get up. As Taylor snores gently beside me, I watch him, drinking in the sight of him so still. His dark brown hair flops over his closed eyes, and I have to stop myself from reaching over and moving the stray lock away. Despite the cold, the duvet has slipped down, revealing Taylor’s broad sculptured chest and his strong arms.
I find myself drifting back into the memory of last night, of being pinned by Taylor’s body to the bed, the fast and furious f*****g and lastly the haunted look in Taylor’s eyes as he claimed me for his own. An unsettled feeling in my stomach that is nothing to do with the baby suddenly has me up and running for the toilet,
