Chapter Twelve WestonI can still smell Jane on my pillow. I close my eyes and take a deep breath of the scents of her shampoo, her sweat, her desire . . . the desire I still can’t believe she shared with me.
I never thought she’d want to touch me again—and damn, how she touched me. I can still feel the burning touch of her hands and mouth on my skin. Despite all the fun we just had, my c**k threatens to stir again.
I feel for my phone on the nightstand and text her.
Let me know when you’re home.
Eighteen minutes later—almost exactly how long it takes to get from my place to hers—she replies.
I’m here. You worried about me?
Just wanted to make sure you got back okay.
I consider for a moment, then decide I don’t care about playing it cool.
And one last chance to say good night.
You’
