A door creaked open, and a slim, fit woman strode in, her long chestnut hair fluttering behind her like a playful flag in the morning breeze.
"Dax, honey! Are you still sleeping?" she hollered, her voice joining the obnoxious alarm that was still yowling somewhere under a pillow. She marched into the room, one brow already twitching with motherly impatience.
Then she froze.
Her gaze landed exactly where it shouldn't have, and she gasped.
"Dax! Get your wet-dream ass outta bed... you're late for school!" she barked, her voice cutting through the room like a thunderclap. "God," she added under her breath, "what an erection.
At those words, Dax, who had been yawning drowsily, shot upright like a guilty rocket. He blinked rapidly, glanced down, and almost fainted. His junior had rebelliously pitched a tent under the bedsheet, pointing toward the ceiling like a flagpole declaring independence.
