Fifty Shades of Lust {Steamiest Short Stories}
Something stupid.
My thighs pressed together.
I wasn’t supposed to do this. I wasn’t supposed to think of him like this anymore. I was twenty one—not sixteen, not starry-eyed, not hopelessly naïve.
Except… I was hopeless. Still.
I closed my eyes and let memories blur into fantasies. Zahar in his crisp shirts, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms flexing as he poured himself vodka.
Zahar leaning over our dining table discussing business with Dad, voice deep and smooth. Zahar glancing at me sometimes—just a glance, nothing more—but long enough for me to wonder if he ever imagined what my mouth might look like wrapped around his fingers.