Her slender fingers brushed the palm of his hand.
‘Your hands are rough,’ she said, kissing them.
‘Oh, thanks,’ he said.
‘They’re still my favourite part of you.’ Continue reading Chimaera by Steven Bruce
Her slender fingers brushed the palm of his hand.
‘Your hands are rough,’ she said, kissing them.
‘Oh, thanks,’ he said.
‘They’re still my favourite part of you.’ Continue reading Chimaera by Steven Bruce
