Chapter Eight
Orla
I opened my eyes to a dimly lit room, the sunlight muted by the thick white drapes but not eclipsed. Lying face up, I looked at the barely moving white ceiling fan overhead. It stirred the air just enough.
Memories of the night before flooded my freshly woken brain. A smile curled my lips as I thought of the kiss on the cheek Warner had left with.
I’d become wary on the ride home. Worried that he would want more from me than I was ready to give. That night had been the best date I’d ever had. But I still didn’t know Warner well enough to risk having s*x with him.
I wasn’t a prude, but I also wasn’t into anything too kinky. At my age, I’d heard too many horror stories from friends and patrons about some man wanting to tie a woman up and s***k her bottom black and blu
