Chapter Six
Miles threw Tessa an old sweatshirt. “Here put this on,” he told her.
Tossing the faded gray over her soft curls, the sweatshirt fell lewdly off one shoulder.
Miles enjoyed the look “And these should do,” he added as he handed her a pair of biker shorts that fit skintight around her ass. The Lycra rubbed against her sore stripes, and with each move she made, the discomfort reminded her they were there. She was certain Miles had planned it that way.
“Where are we going?” she asked, when they were in his small sports car, speeding away from the garret, top down, wind blowing through her hair. Such sumptuous freedom.
“I’m taking you home.”
“To my apartment?” She was startled.
“Is that not home?”
“Well, yes. I suppose it is.” She could hardly mask her disappoint.
They rode
