Not a feeling he couldn’t understand. They’d deliberately switched off last night, so the Hollywood thing didn’t overtake the evening. At the time, neither of them had anticipated that the temporary disconnect would last overnight and drag on well into the next morning. Paige was sitting on his lap at the table while they picked at a fruit bowl and made out like horny high school kids. It was ten thirty and they were just getting around to joining the human race, courtesy of an off-the-hook morning fuckfest that went from his bed, to the shower, and ended in the dressing room with his dick in her mouth. She’d licked her lips like a well-fed cat afterward, saucily declaring, “Protein for breakfast.” He was enjoying the private bubble they were in and was dragging his feet about letting the world intrude. He popped a red grape into her mouth. “Mmm. Yum. Anyway, maybe I should have called Carolyn last night. What do you think? Is it too late?” Oh, it was most definitely too late.
