Olivia

We padded downstairs to the kitchen, the marble floor cool beneath my bare feet. Alexander opened the fridge while I hopped onto the counter, legs swinging.

"Wine? Beer? Water?" he asked, surveying the options.

"Wine sounds good."

He pulled out a bottle of white and opened it efficiently. Two glasses appeared, and he poured generous amounts into each.

"Here." He handed me a glass, then positioned himself between my thighs. "Better?"

I took ...