Page 65 of Wicked Design
She stopped at her door but didn’t open it.
Van Gogh slouched against the wall. “Aren’t we going in?”
“Do you want to?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“To spend the night?”
“Actually day, until my shift. Thank God it’s not till two.” He wiped sweat off his forehead, the temperature already too hot. “Do you mind?”
She shook her head and led the way inside.
Heat slammed into him. He clutched the table. “Please let me pay for your air conditioning. I’m more than willing. We’re gonna die in here.”
Clover turned on the unit.
He dragged across the room and dropped onto her mattress. “This feels great.” He patted the comforter. “Join me, please.”
“To make love?”
“Yeah. Let me get undressed.” He struggled with his shirt. Fucking thing wouldn’t budge. Sweat welded it to him like glue. Unbuttoning his jeans and lowering the zipper took energy he didn’t have. Overwhelming fatigue settled in. “I’ll strip in a sec. Promise. Then we’ll…”
He forgot what he intended to say and drifted off.
