ZEPHYR.
I held the dryer over Lyla's hair, moving it slowly so it could fan the damp strands and we could both finally get to bed.
She sat in front of the vanity mirror, wearing tiny night shorts that made focusing impossible and a matching thin-strapped top that left most of her back bare. The top had little pink bunnies on it, meant to be cute, but on her, it might as well have been lingerie. Somehow, she still managed to look sexier than a minx.
Once her hair was dry, I switched off the dryer and set it on the table.
Then, I picked up the brush and began to run it through her hair, taking my time.
She released a soft, contented sound, smiling.
When our eyes met in the mirror, the smile widened. "It feels nice."
I smiled back at her, still brushing. "I bet it does."
We were in th
