Chapter Five
Max
Walking toward Harlow, my mind considered two courses of action. One would be for me to do the sane thing and leave. Now.
The other would be for me to do precisely what I wanted—give in to the urges I’d been beating back for three long days. Because I wanted Harlow. With such ferocity, I could hardly bear it.
Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, and her lips stained red from the wine she held in her hand. Her complete lack of artifice was so refreshing; she seemed oblivious to how beautiful she was. Her T-shirt hung just past her hips, and she wore a pair of bulky wool socks that reached halfway up her calves. Though her T-shirt was loose, it didn’t do a damn thing to hide her assets, so to speak.
The fabric stretched across her breasts, her n*****s pressing agains
