|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The warmth spread through her stomach and down between her legs. She sucked in a lungful of air and cupped her free hand over her pubic mound and pressedhard. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
She was on fire. Her breasts and nipples were so sensitive that the air in the bathroom felt like sandpaper and her legs quivered like a two-day-old filly's. This time, when she opened her eyes, the bags under her eyes had disappeared and her face was as smooth as fine silk. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
It's an illusion, she thought, running her fingers over her lips and down her chin. Or the lighting. It has to be. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
But the burning in her loins was no illusion. She was as randy as a she-goat. After a quick bath, she dabbed her favorite cologne behind her ears, at the back of her neck and both knees, the bend of both arms, and then worked a few drops into her navel and pubic hair. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
She slipped into the bedroom and paused to let her eyes adjust to the dark. All of the earlier guilt she had felt over jumping into the sack with a kid while her boyfriend was missing had vanished. She heard Cyrus's soft snoring and thought, Boy, are you in for a surprise. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Even as she tiptoed across the room, Kyna knew she wasn't acting like herself. When she saw him stretched out across the bed with his arms thrown across his eyes she wanted to rip his shorts off and devour him. Instead, she reached out to touch him, but the necklace somehow got tangled in her hair. She hastily removed it and put it in the night table drawer. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Russ?" She shook his arm gently. "Russ?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Cyrus peeked over the crook of his arm and his eyes almost popped out of his head. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
They made love like two trains colliding. Cyrus's ardor was real but perfunctory and he wondered if the city's tall buildings and dirty streets were somehow inhibiting him. Even inside the hotel room with the drapes drawn, he could feel the |
|
|
|
|
|