Sleepless in Savannah
“But he could imagine her in nothing except that damned apron and those clunky heels. And he had envisioned dotting sauce on her body and licking it off.Frustrated, he strode to the refrigerator and scrounged through the measly contents. A half-wilted head of lettuce. Six-day-old pizza that had turned into a moldy brick. A soured carton of milk. An empty container of orange juice. Two beers.Ahh, another night of a liquid diet or takeout. That is, unless he wanted to dress up and go out. Meet wom...en. Flirt. Maybe bring one home.Bachelorhood. The life he'd always wanted. The life he'd once loved.Dirty clothes on the floor. His favorite sports magazines roosting on his scarred coffee table in the den. His bed unmade. His bathroom free of women's stuff.Like the flimsy black teddy that had been draped over the shower rod in Sophie's bathroom.His body thrumming with desire again, he phoned the new Philly cheesesteak delivery joint around the corner, jumped in the shower to chill his libido, then dressed in a pair of running shorts.MoreLess
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