Dax Harrison was caught off guard.
In a moment, he rolled off the bed.
With one hand resting on the edge of the bed, he sat on the carpet and stared at her in disbelief, letting out a laugh. He raised one leg and ruffled his short black hair.
"What's your issue?"
Grace Webb grabbed a light woolen blanket and wrapped it around herself. She rose from the bed, her wheat-colored skin emitting a glow of health and beauty. Despite this, one could still see the signs of their rough play — the bluish-purple bruises that were tender to the touch.
Provocative to the eye and the senses.
A grand sight indeed.
She stood before him, raised her foot, and pressed her bright red toe against his shoulder, forcing him to lean back involuntarily, creating a picture of her stepping on him.
