” Stacia sighed. “That isn’t my shoulders.”“I know.” I spoke through my smile. “But it’s so hard to resist you in this negligee.” Su...denly, it seemed like everything was hard.“You’ve got too many clothes on.” She playfully pushed me away, following me onto the edge of the bed.Sitting on the edge of the bed, Stacia reached up and started to unbutton my shirt. She pulled the bottom of the shirt out of my jeans to get at the last button, stood up to ease the shirt off my shoulders and let her. The black glass surface of his desk is perfectly arranged as always: a computer, a leather notebook, and a framed photograph of Frankie, his dog. The office is more like a displaya huge room with floor-to-ceiling windows giving views of Fifth Avenue to the left, and Central Park on the other side. The rest of the room is comprised of a large bookshelf and multiple modern impressionist paintings hang from the walls. I scan the room to look for Tristan and my eyes cast over to the end of the. More

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