The morning sun slipped through the half-open blinds, painting soft golden streaks across the bedroom where Sophie lay back in bed, her body still buzzing from the wild, reckless heat of the night before. The sheets were cool against her skin now, the damp patches from her steamy romp with Devon mostly dried, but the faint, musky scent of their passion clung to the fabric like a dirty little secret that made her smirk.
She lay on her side, blonde hair fanned out over the pillow, her sheer black nightie back on, clinging to her curves like a second skin, the lace teasing the tops of her thighs. Her breaths were slow and steady, matching the soft snores of Mark beside her, who was completely clueless. His hair was a tangled mess, his arm flung carelessly over the blanket, his face slack in sleep, no idea about the fire that had burned just hours ago in the bathroom.
