It was a studio. No, it was the studio. The art studio of my dreams, if I had ever imagined something as lavish as this.
One long window at the east end looked out over New York City. The sun was beginning to peek out from over the horizon. Pink and orange light shone in, bouncing off of the mirrored windows. From this room I could see why the sky had been getting lighter.
Sunrise. It seemed like it should have been longer. Last night I had left Knox and gone to work. Last night, after he had touched me.
The recent memory sent blood rushing again between my thighs. I ignored it and stepped further into the room.
Everything was white. All of the walls, the ceiling. The floor was smooth white. There weren’t even any lines, although I would swear that it was tile under my bare feet.
And
