9
They were still panting when their bodies parted. “I hate using condoms with you,” Ryske said, shifting to kiss her quick before vaulting off the bed. “Wait here.”
Propping herself on her elbows, Harlow called out. “Use the towel.” He was already reaching for the door handle. The sudden request made him pause to glance back at her, a question creasing his brow. Ryske wasn’t modest and she’d never asked him to be before. “At home, I don’t mind around the guys… I don’t really mind around anyone… except…” it was sort of cringe-worthy to admit it. “I don’t want Ophelia to see you like that.”
Without mocking her or laughing, Ryske grabbed the towel from the floor that she’d discarded. He wrapped it around his waist and slipped out of the bedroom.
Flopping onto her back, Harlow played with
