Talan sighs in his sleep and rolls onto his back. He sits up in bed, his hair tousled, eyes sleepy. “Are you awake again, Nia?” he asks softly. “You were wrapped around me the entire night.” “I was not.” “You were moving your hips against me in your sleep.” A flush spreads across my cheeks. “Well, I was asleep, and I was dreaming you were a horse.” “I dread to think what you do to horses. And they say I’m depraved.”
