The Billionaire Waitress
His secrets cut, but his touch heals, I thought, my fingers clawing into his shoulders, nails biting skin.
My robe slipped to the floor, pooling like liquid moonlight, leaving my curves bare under his ravenous gaze. His calloused hands roamed, tracing every inch, igniting shivers that raced through my core. “Kayla,” he rasped, his voice thick with need, lifting me onto the bed, the linen sheets cool against my fevered skin. His kisses trailed down my neck, teeth grazing my collarbone, sparking electric jolts that made me gasp. I arched into him, my nails raking his back, his muscles flexing under my touch as he worshipped my body—every curve, every scar, every shudder. “You’re my home,” he w
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