Emily had spent a considerable amount of time in this house. She knew the layout, the twisting paths, the maze of hallways, the conglomeration of rooms. She didn't talk much other than to let me know her room was at the end of the hall and she was in from Los Angeles, not that she mentioned why. I didn't bother to ask. I was too enthralled by the fact that she hadn't bothered to put on any clothes when we'd left the party.
A step behind, I still held her hand as I watched her ass sway with each step. I'd studied the female form, painted hundreds of picture-perfect bodies, but hers-holy hell, she was stunning, flawless from an artistic perspective. My mind spun with ways to capture the grace of her steps on canvas.
I stopped at the threshold, unsure of where to take this. So much for an
