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Monday, January 25, 2016
Hugh was still sleeping soundly when the sun filtered through the curtains waking up Anneliese.
His hair-smattered, strong thighs felt deliciously manly against hers and she was keenly aware of his forearm and hand resting just beneath her bare breasts, almost touching them.
When he moved, she moved with him, turning face to face.
He smelled clean and sharp, of soap and a unique fragrance that was only him. Unconsciously she breathed it in as she stared, fascinated, at the man before her.
With no tension to tighten his facial muscles, his face looked younger, changed even. His hair was tousled, falling over his forehead in disarray, giving him a roguish look. That made her smile. He was a war hero, a rogue, and a few other not so very complimentary things
