Trey searched the room noisily for something to write on, but Myrna scarcely noticed. She was too busy coming to terms with the idea that she wasn’t just hopelessly, madly, deeply in lust with Brian “Master” Sinclair. She might actually love him. An idea that did not sit well with her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Brian asked her, much more alert than he’d been a few moments before.
“Like what?”
“Like you have a bad taste in your mouth.” Brian licked his lips, his brows drawing together in confusion. “And why do my lips taste like cherry?” He lifted his head to glare at Trey. “Did you kiss me again?”
Again?
Trey chuckled uneasily. “Of course not.” He tossed a pen and pad of paper onto the bed and fled the room. The door closed behind him securely. He hadn’t even bothered to
