42
Sara
I feel like I’m in a dream. Or maybe a nightmare—I can’t decide. Peter and I are walking on a crowded street together… without the slightest hint of subterfuge on his part. He’s somehow even bigger than I remember, his broad shoulders straining the seams of his soft-looking black T-shirt and his powerful legs flexing in the tight confines of his well-worn jeans. His dark hair is longer than before, waving slightly in the warm evening breeze, and my fingers itch to bury themselves in that soft, thick mass, to clutch fistfuls of it as he goes down on me, his skilled tongue driving me to completion.
A lightning-hot tingle zings through me at the thought, intensifying the burn under my skin. My heart is pounding so violently it might burst, and I’m no longer cold. No longer frozen i
