I glance down to see the covers have shifted, and his hand rests directly on my body, halfway on my bare skin, halfway on my panties. Suddenly my vision clears as the holy hand sweeps away the fog. “Good morning,” Quincey greets. I jolt up in bed and look around. “Oh my god,” I breathe. “Am I alive? Oh my god, I’m alive. I’m either alive or you’re God.” A smirk. The first I’ve truly seen. Or maybe I’m dreaming it?
