“Oh, my gosh!” Kasey screamed over the phone. “I bet he was drooling when you shut the door on him. He was probably thinking about you all night.”
I shrugged on my coat, giggling. “I don’t know about that, Kasey,” I said. But I was definitely thinking about him lying in bed with me, hand around my throat, fingers trailing down the center of my chest, touching me in places that I had only ever dreamt.
After I shut the door on Eros last night, I laid on my bed—candle crackling softly in the corner, fingers gliding into my underwear—and thought about the night. Oddly enough, most of my thoughts weren’t occupied with the incident in the hallway, but by the one in the car. When Eros said he didn’t want to tell me about his past until I was ready.
II rested my forehead against the cold living
