The smooth curve of Presley’s back rises and falls with her soft breathing. I’m not quite sure when she fell asleep because I was too busy watching the way the moonlight reflected off her creamy skin, reveling in the pleasurable calm thrumming through me.
TWhat’s going to happen, Dom? Are you really going to let her stay the night?
What’s going to happen, Dom? Are you really going to let her stay the night?That can’t happen. I don’t want to have to explain her presence to Fran in the morning, or deal with the possibility of waking up one of the girls while sneaking Presley out. Trying to put a toddler back to sleep at this time of night isn’t my idea of postcoital fun.
Presley shifts under my sheet, her thick hair splayed across my pillows. She nuzzles into the silken material. It occur
