.
.
.
SLOANE
A small sigh escaped my lips and I saw my reflection staring back at me from the full-length mirror. My fingers moved absentmindedly, unfastening my blouse, but my thoughts were far away.
Damon.
His name whispered through my mind like a forbidden melody, his touch haunting me even when he wasn’t there.
As the blouse slipped from my shoulders, I closed her eyes, exhaling shakily. I could almost feel his hands on my skin, warm and commanding, sending shivers down my spine.
My breath hitched as the memory of his touch—his lips, his voice—flooded my senses. I did not know what was wrong with me but I could not get him out of my mind. He was stuck there.
“Stop it,”
I whispered to myself, shaking my head as if to dispel the thoughts. His tousled hair, his eyes filled
