Twenty-Five
The sun streamed in on my face, but that’s not what woke me the next morning. It was Christopher. He planted light butterfly kisses on my eyelids. My eyes opened immediately because my reality was better than any dream I’d ever had.
“Good morning,” he said.
I groaned in agreement. The smile on my lips was as big as the o****m that had sent me into slumber. Christopher captured my lips in one of his slow, leisurely kisses that said he had all the time in the world and he wanted to spend it with me.
“I never thought there was a difference between f*****g and making love.” He slid his fingertips across my temple, displacing the baby hairs at my crown. “I was wrong.”
My voice was still nowhere to be found. I gave over my mouth, my body, my thoughts to this man with an angelic
