In the Midnight Hour
“Tonight she wore a T-shirt and a pair of bloomers—shorts, he’d heard her call them—that were very short, indeed. Another delight of modern times. His gaze swept the delicious length of her long, long legs before moving back to her face, to her closed eyelids, her flushed cheeks, her pink lips parted just enough to make his groin tighten.
“Wake up, Rouquin,” he murmured. His fingers were clenched at his sides to keep from touching her.
One touch and Val would want another. And another, and touch...ing was not part of his plan.
“Rise and shine, Veronique!” His voice grew in strength, a deep baritone that thundered off the walls. She didn’t so much as budge, even when he launched into a chorus of the outlandish song drifting from the television. A blonde-haired woman dressed as a cross between a stable boy and a voodoo queen, with too much makeup and not enough meat on her bones, danced across the screen as she sang about virgins and being touched for the very first time.
Not this virgin, he vowed, and not by him.MoreLess
“Wake up, Rouquin,” he murmured. His fingers were clenched at his sides to keep from touching her.
One touch and Val would want another. And another, and touch...ing was not part of his plan.
“Rise and shine, Veronique!” His voice grew in strength, a deep baritone that thundered off the walls. She didn’t so much as budge, even when he launched into a chorus of the outlandish song drifting from the television. A blonde-haired woman dressed as a cross between a stable boy and a voodoo queen, with too much makeup and not enough meat on her bones, danced across the screen as she sang about virgins and being touched for the very first time.
Not this virgin, he vowed, and not by him.MoreLess
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