Clara's head was still buried in the blankets, and she was starting to wonder if she had lost her mind, her face flushed.

"Matthew, keep your hands to yourself," she said.

Matthew's hands had already found their way onto her clothes.

"Clara, I can't help myself," Matthew replied, pulling his hand back. In fact, he had indulged himself an hour before Clara even woke up.

"Seriously?" Clara didn't even want to confront him. Her bra had already been undone. She didn't ...