Evan's long, lean body lay in bed shirtless, exposing his defined chest, which rose and fell as he let out heavy sighs. It was another night, and it was late, as he found himself still tossing and turning in bed—uncomfortable, staring at the ceiling, thinking.
'Why can't I stop thinking about her? How long can I endure my present sexually deprived state?"
He was frustratedly sitting up and running his hand through the strands of coal-black hair covering the edges of his chiseled face. Evan's first thought lately was when his head hit the pillow; every night this week was always the same; he was thinking of Gwen. A few swallows and deep breaths held back his tears because if he was thinking of Gwen, Evan couldn't bring himself to say it. In some ways, he felt guilty. Because Evan only ha
