Of Pillows And Pampering Novels & Stories

I sat up in the darkness of the master suite and began a frantic reorganization of the fourteen different pillows I had accumulated since we arrived in Italy. Dominic stirred beside me as I shoved a firm decorative bolster under my knees and jammed a cooling gel pillow behind my lower back for the fifth time that hour. I was building a literal fortress of down-filled silk in an attempt to find a single angle that didn't make me feel like an overturned turtle in a designer nightgown. "If you are planning on annexing the entire eastern side of the mattress I would appreciate a formal notice of your intent to colonize my sleeping space," Dominic muttered with a sleepy and gravelly voice.

Pam giggled, looping her arm with mine to lean into me. I couldn’t help but laugh. This woman so easily diffused my anger. Max may not like to think that there’s such a thing as a good woman or that any woman could be different from the ones his dad dates and marries. I know better, though. And Pam is different. I won’t claim this will be more than friends with benefits, but I know she’s not just a booty call. “Come on. Let’s go find a room. They’re supposed to be stocked with various toys and ways to elevate one’s pleasure.” I suggested standing and offering her my hand.