Zerotolerancefilms
Mckenzie Lee, Codey Steele Pic(s)
The afternoon sun slanted through the slats of the blinds, striping the unfamiliar room in bars of molten gold and deep shadow. His hands, smelling of sawdust and salt, traced a slow, deliberate path from the curve of her shoulder down the arch of her spine, a journey that made her breath catch in her throat. She arched agat the crisp cotton sheets, the texture a stark contrast to the smooth, heated skin of his chest pressed agat her back. A low murmur escaped his lips, a vibration she felt rather than heard, as his fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, tilting her head to expose the vulnerable column of her throat. The taste of him was on her tongue, a faint hint of coffee and something uniquely male, an intoxicating flavor that erased all thought of the world outside this quiet, sun-drenched space. Every nerve ending felt alive, hyper-aware of the weight of his leg thrown over hers, the possessive anchor of his arm around her waist. The air itself seemed thick with the scent of their mingled sweat and the faint, floral perfume from her skin that had transferred to his. In this suspended moment, the only sounds were the ragged symphony of their breathing and the distant, rhythmic hum of a lawnmower that belonged to another life entirely. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the exquisite friction, a silent pact made in the languid heat of the day.
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