And it’s only now that I notice she’s wearing some sort of silky tank top and matching shorts. They’re light purple, and they shimmer in the dim light cast from the bulb over the stove. “Of course, I am.” “Why? You’re all smirks and quick comebacks. Winning everyone over.” She reaches up, combing her fingers through her long silky hair. Tresses that shimmer like her matching pajamas. And it’s now I notice the scar on her chest, followed by the outline of her nipples through the top. They’re not hard, but I can see the swell, the tease of the shape. It’s almost more alluring to imagine what
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