"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she stammered, stepping back and slamming the door. "We'll wait for you downstairs!"
It had to be Mrs. Lancaster. Her of all people, my mother, the only one capable of barging in and ruining the best moment I'd had in years.
Zara snapped out of it like someone waking from a dream. She pushed me against her chest with a force I'd never seen in her, her face redder than a ripe tomato.
My erection was practically at full throttle, and I slumped to the side, lying back on the bed like a shipwrecked sailor.
Damn it!
I felt like a teenager caught red-handed.
"Julian, how embarrassing! What will your mother say?" Her voice was a whisper, but her eyes glared at me. Now she was my little lioness.
I propped myself up on one elbow, trying to salvage some dignity.
