Shit. Shit. My honesty was going to be the end of me. At the very least, the “finale” of whatever this was with Collier. His body language was off the charts jealous when I admitted to sleeping with some of my clients. Jesus, what if he asked me if I’m sleeping with my current client? With Dylan? It’s not as if I haven’t dropped hints that I’d had sex recently, prior to our first night together. I was honest with him when I said I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else, effectively committing my body to only him. For the time being anyway. I felt him before I saw him. He was apparently struggling, trying not to go off half-cocked. I stood to greet him. His eyes were cloudy and tension pumped off his long, muscular form, tugging at my heart. Before he could sit, I clasped his hand. Nervous energy jolted me as I laced our fingers together. The moment our palms touched a wave of heat spilled through every neuron and sizzled, popped and crackled like Rice Krispies.
