Savannah's POV
The shadows held secrets and poor choices. I had to blame something for the reckless behavior consuming me.
The mark throbbed against my skin. Darkness provided perfect camouflage. Dennis exploited every weakness I possessed, yet even endless justifications couldn't explain my actions.
Damn it.
Dennis's breath caught when my fingertips brushed his thigh. Nothing sensual about the contact.
Like testing bread for freshness, checking if the crust had hardened or remained soft, I was simply exploring.
I couldn't identify what drove me in that moment. Was I seeking truth behind his crude words? Testing the mark's response? Perhaps I sought nothing at all.
My fingers traced along the zipper's edge. Beneath the fabric lay exactly what Dennis had described, rigid and damp with arousal. I jerked my hand back immediately. He released a frustrated sound but abandoned his performance as our cart emerged from darkness into the haunted section.
