Page 50 of Dark Heart


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He sheds his sweatpants, giving me a perfect view of his naked body––muscular torso, thighs, and teasingly curved butt––before diving into the water.

I stare out the window for a few good moments, waiting for him to return.

Half an hour later, he’s nowhere in sight.

I crash into the pillow and fall asleep.

Crying seagulls wake me a few hours later, with the bright morning light dancing on my eyelids.

Eyes heavy with sleep, I slide off the couch and shuffle to the bathroom.

I shower and spend some time in front of the mirror, brushing my hair and teeth and putting on light makeup before slipping into a short, gauzy dress with embroidered bell sleeves and flared bottom.

Sandals in hand, I tiptoe across the bedroom, heading for the exit.

Walking across the bedroom and past his bed, I glance at him. My breath catches, and my mouth falls open as I get a glimpse of him.

I turn to stone.

He is sprawled on his stomach, naked, still sleeping, with a rumpled sheet barely covering his thighs.

His left knee is exposed, and the swell of his ass is on full display, perfectly curved and hard and muscular.

And I was right. It has that teasing curvature that makes my imagination flare.

I stare and pivot slightly, quietly bending over him to see more. Soft, steady breaths roll off his lips.

My eyes roam over his body one more time before I take another step, and the hardwood floor creaks under my feet.

Damn it.

My pulse explodes in my neck.

He rolls from one side onto the other, the sheet sliding off.

I take a long, silent breath while staring at his naked rear, muscular thighs, and morning erection peeking from under him.

Reluctantly, I pull my gaze away, slowly sliding toward the door.

“What are you doing?”

His hoarse, morning voice rolls in my ears, followed by the soft rustle of the sheet as he pulls it over his body.

I flick my gaze at him.

Propped on his elbow, the sheet covering him from the waist down, he palms his hard cock, now twitching beneath the silky fabric.

He looks at me, eyes foggy with sleep.

“What time is it?” he asks.

“It’s ten,” I say, slipping into my sandals.

“Do I need to go somewhere?”

“Not today. Unless you want to join the girls and me.”

He shakes his head.

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