Ella
I scrub the food from my body as steaming water pours down around me in a blissful cascade. A hot shower is exactly what I needed, but I feel like a silly school girl starcrossed in puppy love. I can’t stop replaying the events in the kitchen in my mind, reliving every word, every touch – every look from Sinclair’s penetrating green eyes.
I find myself running my hands over my bare skin in the same places he stroked and caressed me, imagining what he’ll do when he comes home. I know he was going to kiss me before Hugo interrupted us, and the memory of his lips so near mine sends shivers of excitement down my spine. Sinclair has kissed me before of course, but never in private, never simply because he wanted to.
My mind races with the possibilities. Will he make love to me when he
