40
Ringing the doorbell with his elbow, Stanton used the briefcase in one of his hands to help leverage the take-out bags slipping out of his grasp back into the crook of his arm. He heard the quick click-clack of heels trotting toward the door and then it swung open to Sammi, dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. With a soft hey, she grabbed the large paper bags from his arms and strode toward the kitchen. He stood stock still for a moment, drinking her in. Then, he realized that she’d answered the door without checking the peephole first. That shook him out of his trance.
Coming in behind her, he savored the swing of her hips and plump a*s wrapped in a fitted leather skirt the color of butter, with his tongue practically lolling out of his mouth. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired o
