Abigail
Nothing like a good old serious talk about a murderer to yank someone out of a perfect orgasm.
Finnegan and I were tangled together in the massive bed. My head rested on Finnegan's bare chest, rising and falling with his steady breathing.
The gold waist chain he'd bought me in Santorini still sat around my waist, cool against my skin. My favorite piece of jewelry used to be a necklace Meemaw had given me for college graduation, but this chain was rapidly climbing to the top of the list.
My body was deliciously sore from him fucking me beside the mirror, and my ass — gosh. I squeezed my eyes shut when it clenched at the memory of his fingers invading it.
Next would be his cock. Oh, I couldn't wait to watch him lose his mind when that happened.
As delicious as that was, though, my mind wouldn't stop racing with everything that had happened tonight.
"We should probably talk about what to do about Gavin," I whispered, tracing my finger over his belly.
