I did not tell her the stories I knew about it. I did not want to frighten her. I did not even know if they were entirely true to begin with.
“I envy you. It must be great that it lasts that long,” Johanna whispered in my ear.
Her languid fingers caressed the back of my neck in a very relaxing gesture. She could barely contain her agitated breathing, but our hearts calmed in unison; the closeness of the other did that kind of thing.
“Let me come back in a few days and I’ll show you that you have nothing to envy,” I promised.
She laughed. Her laughter went through me like a shockwave.
“Sure, who do you think you are, Mr. Grey?” she said sarcastically.
“Who?”
I straightened to look at her. Johanna shook her head, amused.
“Forget it. What makes you think you are so good?” she said, la
