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Little Conversations

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Sibylla Matilde

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“At that moment, Ronin stepped back into the living room, clothed, thank God. Well, mostly. Kneeling on the floor before him, Devin watched him fascinated as he fastened the buttons of his plaid flannel shirt, thankfully covering that fucking beautiful chest. He left the top two buttons at his neck open. Frozen, she stared as his hands slipped down to tuck the shirt into his jeans before he fastened the fly and buckled his belt. Her fingers itched as she imagined the warmth and hardness of his hips, the deep contour of muscle low on his stomach. Ooooohhhhh!”

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“His hand grazed her inner thigh as he shifted the manual transmission into reverse, and this lightest of touches sent a shiver through Devin. “Cold?” he asked, backing the pickup away from the trees to turn around. “You can turn on the heat if you’d like.” Devin shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said in a quiet, breathy voice that she couldn’t quite control. The tone caught Ronin’s attention, and he gave her a long look before shifting back into first gear. Again, his fingertips grazed her soft skin, and her breath caught again. Ronin’s eyes fell shut for a moment. “Damn, honey,” he whispered.”

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