The best f*****g s*x of my life. That’s what last night was. I wake up tangled in him, limbs locked together, and I can’t believe it. For a month I’d thought I’d never see him again, but here he is, asleep beside me. He’s thinner than before, shadows under his eyes I didn’t notice last night. I trace those shadows with my gaze.
No, Claire. Don’t get attached. He just came here to get laid. Flying across countries for s*x is insane, but he’s rich, and insanity is part of the package. I’m not attaching any meaning to this. It’s over.
"I didn’t sleep with Katya." He said that last night. Was it true? And what did he mean when he said I was angry for the wrong reason?
"I can hear you thinking," his groggy voice rumbles near my ear.
I’m wrapped so securely around him there’s no way he would
