Chapter 17 - Jim

I’m finishing my last cookie when the stairs creak. At first, I think it’s one of the dogs, but the lack of jingling dog tags lets me know it’s a human.

“Oh,” Alyson’s voice comes from behind me. I turn, taking in the sight of her in her pajama shorts and tight tank top. She’s obviously not wearing a bra, and her long, lean legs are hardly covered by the shorts.

If she turns around and I see her sweet, supple ass, I’m screwed. “I didn’t know you were down here,” she murmurs.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I say, brushing the crumbs from my hands. I’m only in my boxers, not expecting anyone to join me. Alyson lets her eyes linger on my body for a moment before looking away. She smooths out her shirt, pulling the collar up, trying to cover herself, and looks so uncomfortable.

“Neither could I,” she admits and opens the fridge, rooting around until  she  finds  a  can of  ginger ale.

“Not feeling well?”

She pops the top and