Afternoons were spent swimming in the artificial swimming pool Sabrina made or they sprawled on the bed reading, her head in his lap while Ross' fingers idly traced patterns on her skin.
Nights belonged entirely to them—passionate, exploratory, sometimes tender, sometimes wild, always leaving them breathless and sated.
But all day Ross had been different: secretive smiles, sidelong glances, the occasional low chuckle when she tried to pry information out of him.
He was clearly planning something, and the suspense was driving Sabrina crazy in the best possible way.
She straddled him now on the rumpled bed, wearing nothing but one of his oversized t-shirts, her thighs warm against his bare skin as she worked her hands across his shoulders and back.
The room glowed softly from the single lamp on the nightstand, shadows dancing across the wooden walls.
The faint scent of pine drifted in through the cracked window, mingling with the lingering musk of their earlier lovemaking.
