X Art Gianna Morning Tryst -

She slipped out from under his arm. The air was cool on her bare skin. She didn’t reach for the silk robe draped over the chair. Instead, she walked to the open French doors, the morning breeze making her shiver as it kissed the curve of her spine, the back of her thighs.

Turning her head on the pillow, she studied his profile. Strong jaw, dark lashes against his cheeks, a small scar near his eyebrow he’d gotten surfing in Portugal. This was their third… meeting? Tryst? She didn’t like labels. She liked the way his hands felt on her hip bones, like he was anchoring himself to something real. x art gianna morning tryst

“How so?”