Chapter Eleven
I hadn’t realized how provocative it would be wearing nothing but that white sheet draped over my shoulder, tied with a simple sash at the waist. The freedom beneath the draping skirt teased me. When walking, my thighs brushed each other. I could feel the silken hair and the prickly sensation of arousal mixing with my own juice. There on my labia the pinked rouge turned what was often pale to a bright rosy hue. Would I have the courage to let anyone else see? I know I’d be embarrassed to even show myself to Dash this way. But he would love it.
Dash in his sheet looked like a Roman god. A laurel wreath around his forehead took me back to an ancient time.
We drank all of Timmy’s Scotch in the first hour, lounging nervously about the gazebo, half-clothed—wanting the
