TWENTY-SEVEN
“You know, we could be here for a while,” Junker said, drawing her eyes up from the book Rora had resting on her crooked knees. “We don’t know how long it will take them to track us.”
He left his armchair to come over to her. Resting an arm along the back of the couch, he picked up the ends of her hair from her shoulder, and watched his fingers play through it.
Since the first time he’d kissed her, he’d been more physically affectionate. He’d been tactile before that too, though when they’d first met she’d been n***d and unable to stand on her own two feet, so the physical contact was more of a necessity than a choice.
“I guess.”
The day hadn’t been easy, mostly because she’d had to make it appear it was. If she hadn’t known she needed her senses, she’d have been tempted
