22
She woke up to Rhys strumming one of his guitars softly and staring out over the ocean from the master suite. The lower half of his body was shielded by the chair he was sitting in, but his top half was bare, muscles and tattoos rippling as he strummed. They'd spent days here, each day more perfect than the last.
She lay quietly, taking in the perfection that was - she thought - her boyfriend. He’d certainly been acting like it recently. Since that burlesque party at the club almost two weeks ago. So much had happened in that space of time that her head spun slightly just thinking about it.
Her brain was totally unable to process it. Not only had she walked into that club a virgin- which she definitely was no longer,, but her heart now also belonged entirely to the utterly heart-wren
