thirteen
Something about the warmth of his body easing away from her stirred her out of her slumber. Nya moaned and stretched an arm across his chest to squeeze herself close again. “Not yet, don’t leave.”
The light was streaming in above them through the skylight; she only knew that because of the glow on the other side of her eyelids. She didn’t want to open them, she wanted to stay there, nestled in the corner with the wall at her back and her man propped against her chest.
He was solid, stable, a shield between her and the rest of the apartment. Although it was a studio, she’d separated this part of the space from the rest using two dark gauze curtains that she’d pinned to the ceiling and the walls. So although she would see the blurred outlines of the rest of the furniture, if she
