CHAPTER 22
ELSIE
My dreams are vivid the second I fall asleep, wrapped in Brett's arms.
My brain is a montage of images, visions, really–a running review of hot, sweaty kisses and slick bodies coming together and real, hard thrusts of a man inside me.
When morning hits, I wake up and lack the energy to move.
Smiling to myself, I hold the quilt to my face.
Last night, Brett's hands were trembling.
I never thought about him trembling. My name on his lips, he'd locked onto some sort of euphoria. I'd felt it. He'd knocked the breath from my lungs. What he'd found with me, I'd found with him.
He'd ripped me open. Laid me bare. And I knew I would never be the same.
Letting the night before play on rewind, I almost drift into sleep again. Until a niggling notion hits me like a splash of
