Behind On Her Reading

Emmanuel Torquemada walks in from work and stops dead in the bedroom doorway. There she is—Leya Desantis—stretched out on her belly across the bed, bathrobe slipped open at the back so nothing hides the curve of her bare ass. She’s absorbed in her book, the soft curve of her spine rising and falling with each quiet breath. Emmanuel feels the blood rush south fast. He crosses the room, leans down, plants a slow kiss just beneath her ear, then cups both cheeks and gives them a greedy squeeze. Leya shifts only enough to smirk over her shoulder. “Started without me already?” she murmurs. She spreads her legs an inch wider. “Play there all you want. I’ll be done with this chapter soon.”