Lucille

My long hair was tousled, and my body worn out in the best of ways. The blankets on my bed were a twisted mess. With Roman keeping an earlier promise, the bed had not been the only place we’d made love. As I marveled in the postcoital satiation and endorphins flooded my circulation, I lifted myself over Roman’s wide chest and ran my fingertips through the soft curls. Looking up at his striking face, I scanned his dark mane, prominent brow, ...