THE PENTHOUSE WAS cold without him, and every surface I’d taken him on had been scrubbed clean in our absence. The cum-stained sheets we’d left behind had been replaced with silks that smelled of a fragrance too soft to be him, yet too masculine to be him either. Jasper landed somewhere in between Heaven and Hell, angel and devil, and without even trying, even when he believed he was doing exactly that for my benefit. It was all him. Rare and lovely.
