Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Cooling after their throw, Séverine lay embraced in the crook of Thierry’s arm. He relaxed with the onset of sleep. She, however, drifted back up from the twilight—internal dialog refused to release her. Though her mind was racing, her body lay still with the man, relishing the contact. The glow he left within her continued to throb. How that sensation occurred, taking the man, was replayed embellished in memory again and again. The twists in fancy were untethered in any reality.
Nevertheless, the endless word-stream finally chased her body from the bed.
Her phone retrieved, the door was quietly closed; she went to the kitchen. The early morning light was just enough to define the shape on the counter, the espresso machine. It waited patiently for her attention.
Touching at its panel, she glanced back at the closed bedroom door. Thierry remained deeply asleep. He hadn’t been disturbed when she untangled herself getting up. The substantial noise the machine made operating through its cycle was a fleeting worry. Would noise without her comforting presence wake him? Additional demands would not be suffered gladly. His presence would make that awkward. She needed this private time. There was business to attend, demands upon her attention. It came unbidden from within. Without doubt, overwhelming, requiring satisfaction. He, on the other hand, could bring that to her. He had proved capable before. This dialog was leading her to return to the room of the sleeping man—to contact. A step in that direction would result in total commitment. The thrill of exploration introduced with a precise caress, the flow of his body in response joining into her. The itch would indeed again be scratched—fluids exchanged.
This was a dichotomy before her. The resolution of the argument between her mind and her body would cause one to suffer. There could be no winner.
For the rest of this chapter and all the others, please purchase this book. Available at the author's site, deppli.com