C35 NOT REGRETS, BUT WORRIES

The sweet chants of the early morning birds summons my senses from my delightful sleep, making me growl, turning around, actually, chancing to turn around, but in terrific vain. I am buckled up to the warm and possessively dominant arms of Jerol behind me, our raw flesh against the other. He is virtually stifling me with his tight grip and I can't tell whether he knows.

I close my eyes