Part 1

She lay on the bed, oblivious to her surroundings. She was beautiful and vulnerable. He had watched her all evening, getting more and more drunk. She danced with anyone who came along but all the time she was really dancing alone. He stood in the shadows, but he was certain she wouldn’t have seen him even if he stood right in front of her. He was there to catch her though, when the last drink proved too much and she passed out by the bar.

He carried her upstairs to his room. No one was stupid enough to object, all knew she was a friend of his. That was probably the only reason none of the boys in the crowd had tried to take advantage. The scowl on his face grew longer whenever anyone approached her. Why did everyone notice apart from her?

She weighed next to nothing and that was about all she was wearing. The scanty top exposed more than it covered and her skirt clearly failed to hide the black lace underwear. Her skin was smooth and silky and so hot to the touch he found himself sweating, and he did not sweat, ever.

He laid her down on the black satin sheets that made her alabaster skin glow. He ran his hand down her cheek, stroking the side of her face and soothing away the non-existent monsters that haunted his mind more than hers. His eyes wandered down from her face. Her chest rose and fell steadily – she was asleep.

She had been coming into his Club every night for the last week. Her behaviour never changed, she drank, danced, drank some more and than passed out. He was always there to pick her up, even though she would never acknowledge neither his presence nor care. It was slowly driving him over the edge.

His hand slipped down from her cheek to her neck. He felt her pulse – it was slow but steady. He bent his head down and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. She was so incredibly beautiful, his lips stayed for a second longer than usual and she stirred in her sleep. A gentle moan escaped her parted lips and he would have sworn his heart did a flip. The moan had sounded very much like his name! Could she be dreaming about him?

The possibility excited him for a brief moment, but the reality of the situation could not escape him. She didn’t even like him. She barely tolerated  his presence and ignored him whenever they were alone. That is when she wasn’t asleep or rather passed out on his bed. He knew he should be angry with her but that was something he was quite incapable of – she was hurting and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Like on previous nights he proceeded to take off her smoke filled clothes. He unbuttoned her top and gently rolled down the straps. The silk top got thrown in the general direction of the bin and he started to undo her skirt. The zip went down easily and the leather slid smoothly down her long legs. She lay there in her black underwear, motionless.

He climbed into the bed and embraced her. She was so much smaller than him that she fitted perfectly. He held her for an hour, inhaling her scent and listening to her breath. He’d have to let her go soon, as dawn approached and with that the end of her stay in his bed. He couldn’t help it as his hand traced the shape of her breast and his fingers ran from her neck, down her chest and stomach, stopping between her thighs.

He only realised what he was doing when another moan escaped her lips. His hand froze mid-movement, and another realization came over him. His raging hard-on must have been digging into the small of her back for a good half and hour. In his panic he nearly jumped off the bed but his other arm was caught under her head, so in effect he was immobilised.

If this had happened a few years back, he would have had this girl many times over. She would be lying there naked, tied to his bed, begging for release. He knew she’d respond to his touch and yield to his slightest whim. Angelus had that effect on women and Willow was a woman in all sense of the word.

Angel rolled Willow off his arm and got out of bed. He needed a cold shower and some privacy to relieve his desire. Sleeping next to Willow was a sweet torture he was not ready to give up, whatever the price to his dignity.

The cool flow of water surrounded his body. He shut his eyes and dipped his head under the stream. Images of Willow kept flooding behind his closed lids. He saw her begging for his touch, as she unbuttoned his shirt and slid her arms round his waist. His hand reached down as he imagined Willows’ lips enveloping him and in an instant a silent release joined the flow of water down the drain.
 

Part 2

Willow woke up to the sound of running water. She knew where she was. She had ended up in the same place each evening for the last week. LA had seemed a natural choice for her retreat - a retreat from responsibility, dependability and above all, pain. Angel offered a safety net, that after all her years on the Hellmouth she was not ready to give up, even in the face of her despair. A despair that could be summed up in three words: Oz left her. She had a broken heart and instead of dealing, she ran.

She had run straight to LA. She didn't really know why, nor did she linger much on that question. All she did know was that each evening her despair lessened and each morning she woke up feeling slightly better. That is once the dryness in her throat disappeared and her hangover subsided.

"Willow, you're awake." Angel came in, still damp from the shower and wearing only a towel round his waist. He seemed to be looking at a spot just above her head. Willow smiled, "Mornin' Angel." She couldn't help but look at his naked chest; he had far more muscles than Oz. A sigh escaped her lips, as she closed her eyes at the inadvertent pain of remembering her former lover.

Angel's eyes focused on her lips as he heard her sigh. He wished to stop that sound with his own lips or at least be the reason for a different kind of sigh, one filled with pleasure and longing, and not sorrow and pain. "I got some clothes ready for you." Angel pointed to the chair, where an old pair of Cordelia's jeans lay and one of his own silk shirts.

"Thanks." Willow suddenly felt embarrassed by her state of undress. If it had been anyone else, she would have wished for the ground to open and swallow her. Instead she got out of bed, grabbed the clothes and headed for the bathroom. Halfway there she turned round and looked at Angel. He was rooted to the spot. She ran up to him, stood on her toes, like a little girl and planted a kiss on his lips. "Thank you Angel." She said again and rushed to the bathroom.

Angel failed to move for a good thirty seconds. He knew that as he was counting. He then dressed quickly and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. He thought he'd wait till later to analyse Willows' kiss. When she was gone, he'd be able to relive it over and over again, only in the future versions instead of standing there cutting bread, he'd be in the shower with her.

Willow didn't know why she kissed him. He had looked so lonely and dejected, that her own broken heart went out to him. He had to be brooding over Buffy, even though she was now happily involved with a guy at college. There really were different types of love, Xander and Anya were one example, Buffy and Riley another. Her and Angel, yet another - and for the first time she thought of herself and Angel as fellow companions, connected by loss if nothing else.

Her shower was brief but revitalising. Her thoughts about the vampire and relationships dispersed in the steam. For her Angel would forever be Buffy's ex, someone she cared deeply for but could not love. Anyway, when Oz left he had taken a big chunk of her heart with him and she didn't know when she'd get it back.

She dressed swiftly. The jeans proved a bit loose and the shirt too big but somehow she managed to look scrumptious or so Angel had told her,  once she came down for breakfast. Though she wasn't 100% sure if he'd meant her or the breakfast as he mumbled the sentence in true Xander-style. Anyhow, she smiled and so did he. They seemed to reach a silent agreement that morning.

"Would you like to go to see a play tonight?" Angel asked his breakfast companion. "They're showing 'The Importance of Being Ernest' in this little playhouse downtown. No one famous but it is a good comedy." There was a certain note in his voice that made it impossible for Willow to say no.

"And it's by a compatriot of yours!" She couldn't help comment, "Did you ever meet him?"

"No."

"Nibble on him?" She asked cheekily.

"Definitely not!" Angel smiled. "He had a worse reputation than I ever did!"

"Somehow, I doubt that Angel..." She murmured.

"So is that a yes?" He asked.

"OK, as long as we go dancing afterwards." Angel knew that it would mean a repeat of last night and the night before, but at least he'd have her
company away from the club for a few hours. She was interacting with him, not ignoring him, and that was what was important to him. "OK. You have yourself a deal Red." He added with a twinkle in his eye. Red was his name for her and she usually swatted his arm when he used it. She didn't disappoint this time as her fingers grazed his upper arm ever so lightly.
 

Part 3

"Willow, we need to get going!" Angel wanted to get to the playhouse in plenty of time before the curtain call.

"Nearly ready!" A voice came floating from the bedroom.

Angel took in his surroundings. He had come to the hotel she was staying at and nearly instantaneously decided she was going to move to his place that very night. He knew it wasn't "The Ritz" but when he spotted another vampire in the hallway, it was the final straw. She partied in his club because despite being broken hearted, she wasn't suicidal. He'd make her move to his place tonight, no matter how torturous it might prove to his psyche.

"Willow..." He started another exclamation, only to be cut short by her actual appearance. She looked stunning. Her hair was up and she wore a simple red dress. She had minimum make up and a small Star of David was hanging from a gold chain round her neck. Angel took her hand and twirled her around, eliciting a giggle from the young woman. "You look beautiful, Red..." Before she could swat him, he bent his head down and planted a kiss on her lips. It was nothing more than a peck and was over in an instant but somehow it changed the whole atmosphere that evening.

They didn't talk much on their way to the theatre. Once there, Angel checked in her coat and got her a drink. He put his arm around her, holding her as one holds a precious child. She didn't object. It was only after the break, when the story played out on stage had made them both laugh out loud, that they relaxed. "Angel, why did you kiss me?" She looked at him with trusting eyes. Angel smiled, "Because you looked so beautiful." He answered and she returned his smile, and this time he controlled his urge to kiss her.

"I have a question for you, Willow." For some reason he made her skin tremble by the way he pronounced her name. She nodded, waiting for the question. "Why did you kiss me?" He looked searchingly into her eyes. It would be impossible for her to lie to him, she thought, so she closed her eyes.

"Because you understand me." She murmured, "And because you care." She opened her eyes to find him still starring at her. "I love you Willow." He told her or at least he wished he had told her, as the bell announced the start of the next act and they were ushered back to their seats.

Angel paid little attention to the reminder of the performance. He observed his companion from the corner of his eye; emotions played across her face as now and then either a smile or frown beamed towards the stage. She'd look at him ever so often and he'd close his eyes, so in the end Willow couldn't help asking, "Are you asleep?" Her voice was hushed, barely above a whisper but he was certain he could feel her breath on his neck.

"No." His lips curled into a smile as he turned his head to look at her properly.

Willow gulped. The man sitting next to her, smiling at her and looking into her eyes was stunning. She blinked trying to remember who he was, as she felt she was seeing him for the first time. "That's good." Her voice caught in her throat.
 

Part 4

There was something magical about this theatre. He came as often as he could, and every time Angel had found himself on the theatres' balcony the moon would appear to hang low and reflect the sun's rays in an array of wondrous colours. Funny that, how reflected sunshine didn't hurt vamps - it could have been the extra few thousand miles that dissipated the lethal heat or maybe it was something different like say, God's mercy.

Angel believed in God. How else would he explain Willow? He smiled to himself at that thought. The girl was still inside as she had spotted the little
bookshop dedicated to all things "Oscar Wilde". At least this month it was "Oscar Wilde"; last month it had been "Shakespeare" and the month before "Byron". Angel remembered Byron and the guy had been a real ponce. Spike had liked him though, so he somehow survived being nominated as snack food.

His eyes were drawn to the street below. Traffic moved slowly but steadily and quite a few people had decided to walk. After all it was a beautiful night and not everyone knew of the demons and monsters that lurked in dark alleyways. Angel could remember many nights like this, when as Angelus he would prey on innocents.

"Penny for them." A voice came from behind him. He had been so lost in thought he'd failed to notice Willow creep up on him. She had a soft smile on her lips and was trying to hide a plastic bag behind her back, she failed. "What are you hiding little girl?" Angel did his big bad wolf impersonation, which sounded more like Angelus on a good day. A shiver went down Willow's spine but the smile didn't disappear from her lips.

Angel's eyes roamed freely the length of her body. The mixture of past memories and current feelings combined to suppress his usual reserve. Something in the air added to the enchantment he felt, as if the constant shadow of regret was suddenly lifted. All he had done was take Willow's hand and pull her body to his. His arms went around her and he bent his head, burying his nose in her hair. He heard a thump - Willow dropped her bag but neither of them moved. He felt arms slowly circle round his waist and a soft sigh left the girls' lips before she buried her face in his chest.

"You're moving in with me." He whispered in her ear, "I don't want you in that hotel, it has vampires roaming the corridors." He finished with a grin.
Willow only nodded, her mind was busy rationalising the feelings that suddenly overwhelmed her. She had a perfect memory of Angel in nothing but a towel and she was doing her outmost to keep that towel in place, at least in her minds' eye. She realised just how miserably she failed as her hands started to slide down to his buttocks. She wanted to jump away from him but his arms held her securely against his chest. Angel's grin transformed itself into a beaming smile and he held her even closer.

His thoughts were his own at that point and he wouldn't have shared them with anyone. The old Angelus though, would have been proud. They included branding the Witch as his and not letting go of her for a long, long time.
 

Part 5

They decided to walk back to the club. Angel had taken her hand firmly into his and retrieved the bag she inadvertently dropped. It had a book about Oscar Wilde's life and times in it and the little Witch had even managed to write a dedication on the inside cover though he didn't find that out until a bit later.

The club was relatively quiet when they came in, still a few people couldn't help but turn their heads when they walked in hand in hand. Nearly all the regulars had seen the way Angel observed the girl and how the redhead ignored him in the past. A few knowing grins got exchanged along with a few bets won and lost. Most of the money had been riding on Angel getting his way by the end of the week. Suffice it to say Angel was ignorant of the bets and so not responsible for any money won.

"Wanna dance?" He asked Willow and led her to the dance-floor before she could respond. He ran his hand down her back, letting it rest on her waist. The palms of her hands were trapped against his chest, as they swayed to the melody.

"You look beautiful, Willow." He said looking deeply into her eyes. Willow felt herself tremble; he had kissed her last time he'd said that. Oz rarely paid her complements; it was an even rarer occurrence for him to dance with her. He'd never taken her to the theatre, nor if she was to be honest with herself, made her feel like this. Her head felt light and she wanted to giggle. Not because what he said was funny, but because she was nervous beyond words. If he wasn't holding her so tightly she might have melted from his arms.

Angel felt her tremble and saw her pupils dilate. He wanted nothing more but to take her to his bed. He cupped her chin and guided her lips to his own. The touch was feather light but she moaned nonetheless. Angel realised they were stood still in the middle of the dance floor among other dancing couples. He began to guide her out of the mini-crowd away from the bar and towards the upstairs flat. She did not object.

"Angel..." Her voice was small and trailed off as they entered the flat.

"Yes, Red?"

"I'm..." She sounded so scared she didn't even react to the nickname, "I'm tired."

"That's OK." He smiled reassuringly. "The bed is made. I'll take the couch."

Willow glanced at him as his demeanour towards her shifted from attentive to caring. One second he was kissing her, the next putting her to bed, alone. She knew the happiness clause was still active but there were ways around it or so claimed the Slayer. Willow smiled at him, catching his hand as he passed her.

"Angel." Her voice more than her touch brought him to a halt.

"Yes?"

She imagined his voice was tinged with hope. "Thank you." She simply said, handing him the book he had noticed earlier and which she had carried
back from the theatre. She left the room before he could say a word.

Angel opened the book and immediately noticed the dedication: "To my friend, yours always, Red." Nothing more than 6 words but they spoke volumes to him. She had added a little kiss after "Red" and to his utter amazement the tiny dot in the bottom corner turned out to be, on closer inspection, a drop of blood. Angel did not doubt for a second it was Willow's. She was one incredible creature and he could not believe how much he wanted to be Angelus for just that night.
 

Part 6

That night Willow came to a decision. Despite the tiredness enveloping her body, sleep evaded her and she spent the time reflecting on many things: her life in Sunnydale, her relationship with her parents, with Xander and with Oz. She closed her eyes just as dawn was breaking, a gentle smile on her lips mirroring the peace she finally felt inside. Coming to LA had definitely been the right choice.

Angel had a less peaceful night. Visited by his own demons he took to the sewers in hunt mode. Seek and destroy would have probably been more apt, but he was the good guy. Good guys did not go out seeking fights, but then good guys would not have to deal with his type of dilemmas.

His vampire visage fell into place as he staked a newbie and gave chase to another. His leather coat billowed in his wake, sweeping aside the papers that littered the passage. He left a swirling trail of litter behind him, oblivious to that though, Angel concentrated on not thinking of the red haired witch currently in his bed, wrapped in silk sheets. The second vamp swiftly turned to dust but the images of Willow moaning at his touch remained. Even his demon wanted the Witch. Damn.

Any which way he looked at it, he would eventually loose. First he'd loose her friendship, then his soul. That thought made him freeze in his tracks and his human face came back to the fore. He didn't even know how she felt about him, there were moments when she looked at him with kindness but that did not equal love. In the dedication she had called him her friend and promised to be his always but it was hardly the way he wanted her.

He wanted her body and soul. He wanted her warm and full of life. He wanted to kiss her senseless and have her begging for him to take her. He found himself with a ragging hard-on. "Enough!" he growled annoyed by his body's lack of control and his fist hit the nearest wall, chipping part of the brickwork and causing his knuckles to bleed. The hard-on didn't disappear but he felt slightly better. Vampires related to pain.

Angel came to a decision. He'd pay a visit to the Oracles before sunrise. Now he had some more vampires to stake - he could hear them approaching from a nearby tunnel. There were young or else they would have sensed him ages ago. Distracted as he was by thoughts of the Witch, his status as master vampire gave him an undisputed advantage in dealing with newbies.

Three figures emerged from the tunnel as Angel hid in the shadows, waiting to pounce. They were talking loudly, oblivious to any danger. After all, they were the ones usually on the dispensing side of fear.

"Man, that's a lie!"

"You calling me a liar!"

"Hey, chill you two!"

"What!" Both vampires snarled.

"It's not as if either one of you has ever met a witch!" The third vampire seemed un-phased by the other two creatures facing him.

"So...?" One asked.

"And neither of you has a soul!" He continued.

"So...?" Asked the other.

"You have no way of proving the theory!" He scowled at both of them just before they both turned to dust.

Angel caught the third vampire by the throat and lifted him against the wall. "Tell me about this theory." He said quietly and with enough menace to
drain what little artificial colour remained in the other vampire's face.

"Who are you?" Came a chocked response.

"That's not what I asked." Angel increased the pressure of his grip, shifting to his vampire visage. A look of realisation came over the creature. This
must have been the one he'd heard stories about, the one that hunted his own kind and was cursed with a soul. A laugh escaped his lips. No wonder he wanted to hear about this theory.

"No!" He replied cockily, confident of his own importance. The next second he was flying across to the opposite wall and when he woke up he was suspended head first above a vat of liquid, which on closer inspection turned out to be holly water. "Wanna try that again?" A bit of the old Angelus shone through.

Soon Angel knew all that the newbie knew, and it turned out not to be much. At least now he knew for certain what his question to The Powers That Be was going to be.
 

Part 7

Angel emerged from the sewers and into his home a new man. Not quite, but the promise was there according to the Oracles. The apartment was quiet and filled with the scent of Willow. He smiled at the thought of his Witch - it was thanks to her this was possible. Her spell, her bond and her innocence, they had mixed to create a mystic phenomenon that happened once in a few millennia. He wasn't sure of the details but soon he'd be able to hold her, kiss her and make love to her...  and still remain Angel, soul-having, evil fighting defender of the helpless.

All the way back his feet had barely touched the ground. He had wanted to see his deliverers' face, wake her from her slumber and take her in his arms. Now he stood frozen to the spot, taking in the stillness of daybreak. Doubt had crept in slowly. Why would she want him? They were still such new friends. How could he ask her to make this transition?

His own doubts exasperated him. It wasn't like the "phenomenon" had an expiration date. He knew how to seduce, he knew how to charm - he'd make Willow fall in love with him! There was no better time than the present to start. He headed for the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The quickest way to a young witches heart was definitely through her stomach.

Willow stirred as the rustle of feet and strong smell of coffee penetrated her sleepy senses. A smile still lingered on her lips as her eyes slowly opened against the wishes of her body.

"Angel..." She murmured, happy to see the vampire, especially as a tray full of food came into her field of vision.

"I brought you some breakfast." Angel smiled at her,

"I thought you might be hungry. I think we skipped supper last night. There's coffee, toast, eggs and jam. I also got some fresh orange juice and yoghurt. I can rustle up some waffles if you're in the mood..." He stopped talking and smiled sheepishly. He rarely said so many words in one go without stopping to take a breath. Not that he needed the oxygen but it helped in carrying sound.

Willow looked on in wonder. She never thought she'd see Angel babble away but then she never thought he'd take her to the theatre nor bring her breakfast in bed. Today was the first day in a long while that she woke up without a hangover and feeling good on a few hours of sleep. OK, she doubted she'd got more than two hours of sleep but her mind at least felt rested.

"It's more than enough." She said as he set the tray on the side table. She sat up bringing the duvet up with her. She had gone to bed in a t-shirt but sometime in the night it had gotten too hot so she'd taken it off. She could feel her nipples harden as Angel bent down to kiss the top of her hair.

"Did you have a good night?" His voice was husky and low.

"Spent most of it thinking." Willow replied. The vampire smiled warmly and sat down beside her. He proceeded to butter the toast, cover it with
strawberry jam and feed her like a child. She did not think to object. It felt nice to be so pampered.

Angel laughed as Willow pulled a face at him. He'd just given her a sip of the coffee and it seemed he'd made it too strong. "I'll be hyper all afternoon on that!" She exclaimed. "You'll never get any sleep if I drink it!"

Angel's eyes drifted down to her chest, as the duvet cover slipped to reveal her perfect breasts. Willow followed his gaze and blushed furiously, realising the implication of her words. "I didn't..." She rushed to cover herself only to be stopped by Angel. "Don't." He simply said, catching her hand and kissing the inside of the palm. "You're beautiful Willow." He bent forward slowly and brushed his lips against hers, gently caressing her nipple with his thumb. The kiss seemed to go on forever but in reality only lasted a few seconds.

Angel withdrew and took in her flushed appearance. He tucked the duvet under her arms and continued to feed her breakfast.
 

Part 8

Willow looked at the vampire in front of her. He was much changed from the creature Buffy had desperately fallen in love with a few years back. He smiled, chatted and laughed out loud at the slightest provocation. Gone was the brooding and grim personality that shunned company.

It was a change for the better in Willow's books, so much so she had difficulty remembering what had gone before. For over a week now, he rarely left her alone for more than an hour but Willow found his company was never oppressive. She liked spending time with him, even if she didn't know what it was they talked about.

They went out nearly every night, to the cinema, to concerts and even to The Comedy Club. The last thing she could say was that she was bored, in fact now she yearned for a quiet night in with nothing but the TV for company or a good book.

"Angel." Willow spoke, drawing the vampires' attention, "Do you want to stay in tonight?"

"Yep." He answered flippantly, going back to the computer screen. He'd been surfing the Web for some "secret" information for the past hour and Willow tried desperately to look disinterested. Angel smiled at her, and acknowledged her attempt at masking her feelings. Willow just turned away in a huff.

"Great!" She said, as if the decision was anything but what she wanted.

"I'll cook something special for us." Angel's tone was soft and seductive. He was playing with her! Willow glared at him but couldn't keep the pretence up for long, she'd found herself falling for this new Angel and his smallest smile could make her go week in the knees.

"OK." She agreed in the smallest of voices.

Angel looked at the girl from the corner of his eye. She was magnificent. No longer did she seem desperate or heartbroken and he was certain it was in some ways due to their growing friendship. She had always been beautiful but now she absolutely startled people with her presence. It was her personality that shone through even more than her fiery hair, emerald eyes and ivory skin.

Angel had something exceptional planned for the night. It was a recipe his family used to cook and one he'd thought had died with his mother. He'd just found it on the Web. It was the perfect dish to precede or more appropriately, accompany a full-blown seduction. A smile crept onto his lips at the prospect. He'd been planning the evening for a while and he'd just found the last piece. Willow was in for a treat, in more ways than one.
 

Part 9

Willow looked out of the coach window. To any fellow passengers that paid attention to her she looked totally absorbed in the passing traffic. Large family cars brimming with kids. Lorries transporting food and supplies, other coaches. She was too caught up in her own thoughts and memories to notice either the passengers or the constant flow of traffic. She was on her way back to Sunnydale. She was on her way home.

It had been over a month now. So much had changed in both her outlook and the way she felt. Neither Buffy nor Xander would recognise her or accept her or so she thought. Still, she had to face them. She had to see Giles and maybe, if they were around, her parents.

An aura surrounded her and the memories of the last week in particular brought an unconscious smile to her face. She was happy despite the anxiety caused by the responses she was expecting from her friends. After all, Angel was now her soul-mate. They were bonded for life and very possibly death too. It was strange the way fate worked its way round the Scoobie Gang.

He’d cooked her such a wonderful meal that night. It made her peckish just thinking about it. The food though, had only been the start of the pleasure for soon her senses were working overtime. Smell, taste, touch and even the colours – all rich beyond words. The seduction had been complete and when he’d touched her it was fire and ice.

His lips found her nipples and he teased them till they were harder than stone. Willow had to beg him to stop, only to find herself, the next second, begging for him to continue. Angel seemed to know exactly what to do to her.

“Kiss me.” He ordered her.

“No.” She answered stubbornly and lifted her lips to his.

“Funny “no”…” He chuckled as her tongue darted in and out, tracing the shape of his lips. He groaned as their tongues touched for the first time and he tasted the sweetness permeating her being. This wasn’t at all what she had imagined and one by one all remaining barriers shattered.

“That’s the way the cookie crumbles…” He’d whispered into her ear the second she came down from her first orgasm. A wicked grin on his lips and busy fingers instantly promising continued pleasure. A sigh escaped her lips even now. She did have a good reason to be on the coach, though the more she remembered the less clear that reason became.

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