PREVIEW

... ing high enough to swallow sound, walls paneled in dark, glossy walnut that drank the light. The carpet was so thick and between the sconces the shadows pooled cold and velvet.

From far below drifted the ghostly laughter of three hundred guests, the bright pop of champagne corks, the low thrum of a string quartet warming up.

His hair was still dripping, cold rivulets racing down the groove of his spine.

The cotton clung damp to his thighs, clung to the heavy, half-hard sh ...

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