Lake
I was still unsure of what I felt about his text that he sent this morning. But the one emotion I latched on was anger. I was angry and there was a problem in that too. Because I wasn’t exactly sure for whom that anger was. For him because he sent such a text, demanding something so… improper, or on myself because his words had filled me with excitement and anticipation.
Now as I looked at him, I paused. He looked a bit tired. His movements were slow and a little too careful as he caressed his hand down his shirt. But as I watched him, those hands, all my thoughts turned to yesterday when those hands were on me.
“Are you having difficulty reading it?”
His question had me staring at him and I felt my blood boil at the insinuation behind that question. I felt my face warming with em
