While the meal spun and steamed in the micro-wave, Gwen picked up her damp clothes from the hall. Perhaps she should have checked the chain on the doo.... The damp clothes hit the bottom of the linen basket as the micro-wave pinged.Gwen pulled the cork from her current bottle of wine, each bottle carried four glasses and took her four days to consume, poured a healthy slug into a long stemmed glass, re-corked the bottle and put it back in the door tray of the refrigerator, making a mental note to. His eyes connected with her breasts. She heard a low rumble in his throat. ‘You don’t have a bra on?’ She laughed light and low… ‘Nope. Guess what else I don’t have on?’ He groaned again. ‘Oh God.’ She stood up as he set the dirty dishes down on the table. She took his hand and led him into their bedroom. ‘I guess we were thinking the same thing tonight.’ She turned around to him and ran her fingers up his lapels. She looked up into his eyes and clasped her hands behind his neck. His hands. More

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