Nash finally made it up the stairs to his bedroom, and he was absolutely wiped out. He shut the door behind him and let out a long, heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"And tomorrow we start real training again… I really need to put everything into stamina at this rate," he muttered to himself.
A soft, playful voice drifted from the bed.
"And it's not about to get any better."
Nash turned around to see Zayela, lying on the big bed. She wasn't wearing much at all, just one of his oversized black t-shirts and a thin black thong, her favorite combo lately. The shirt had slipped down one of her shoulders, showing the soft curve of her voluptuous breast.
She looked at him with a little smile that felt possessive, with one leg bent and the other stretched out across the sheets.
Oh no... Nash realized it was not over yet.
