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“Plans?”
“Wait and see my little lamb.”
“Does that mean you’re a big bad wolf waiting to eat me?”
“Eating is just part of what I have in store.”
I almost moaned at the thought of him feasting between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to stem the uncomfortable throb, but it is no use. Foster kisses the side of my head and moves to open the soft black briefcase leaning against the couch. From which, he withdraws his silver laptop.
“You’re working?”
“I have some figures to go over. Why don’t you rest?”
Almost on cue, I yawn. The few hours of sleep I got were not enough to sustain me. “Thanks for the permission,” I say tiredly as I lean my head against his shoulder. In a matter of minutes, I am dreaming of our island paradise.
