Chapter 7

The next morning, Juliette Marlowe was late.

Her thighs were sore.

Her dress clung to skin still stained by storm water and sex.

Her nipples brushed the inside of her bra like they still belonged to his mouth.

She tried to hide it.

Pulled her hair up. Smoothed the skirt.

Pretended she hadn't been on...

Login and Continue Reading