Dawson lifted his tired head off the hotel pillow andtried to focus his tired eyes on the clock beside the bed. It was earlyafternoon, but as late as they went to sleep, it might as well had been dawn. He was pretty sure it had been by the time theyhad worn themselves out enough to sleep. Dawson was grateful to be sleeping inthe bed. It was far more comfortable thanthe couch. He had slept much better last night then all the previous nights.
Helaid his head back down against the pillow listening to the shower running ashe did every time he woke. He smiled when he heard Brook singing to herself. Dawson loved the way Brook sounded; she was so full oflife and carefree. He could picture her there under the water, thatluscious body all wet and slippery. He felt himself grow hard at the torment
