Timothy York's examination was meticulous—and thorough.
As it turned out, she hadn't thought she wanted it that much, but she did.
Her desire was simply much more subtle than a man's more overt displays.
Timothy York quickly carried Summer Thorne back to the bedroom.
His men's slippers and her women's slippers were finally placed side-by-side next to the bed once more.
As he held her and kissed her, their breaths mingling, Summer Thorne felt that something wasn't quite right.
It wasn't until she fluttered her eyes open and saw his face, inches from hers, that she suddenly realized the lights in the room were still on.
It was completely different from their usual pitch-black darkness.
Summer's breathing was already unsteady, but she found herself surprisingly unused to the situation.
Breathing shallowly, she finally couldn't resist asking, "Aren't you going to turn off the lights?"
Timothy York's gaze lingered on her face for a long time. "Do we have to?"
