I pretended to ignore what he was doing as his hand slowly crept around between my knees, his fingers trailing across my skin. "What did you do today?... I heard him ask from somewhere outside the swirling fog that was filling my brain. "Uh, Nika and I went . . . farm . . ." I mumbled as I felt his warm, soft fingers inching off my knee and onto my inner thigh, "chickens, uh, cows, garden . . ." I mumbled on, my rattled brain incapable of linking words together to form a sentence. The tips of his. And Cole told both Clay and I to hit the hay—wait, to go to sleep. We all had long days the next day. I put on Clay’s Sheer Gregg Home Brief, and he stayed nude. We spooned on the sectional and went to sleep.I woke up later that night to piss, and Clay was on his back on the couch, his bronze nude body showed his beautiful smooth skin, and rippling muscles. He was asleep and had just had a huge sex weekend. Why was I reaching for him? His breathing was slow and even, so he was asleep. I. More

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