The summer heat had baked the city into a drowsy stillness, but inside Diana Prince’s immaculate living room, the air conditioner hummed a low, indifferent tune. She was adjusting a vase of lilies—white, sterile, perfect—when she heard the front door open.
The question hung in the warm, humid air. It wasn’t accusatory. It was curious. Tender. Diana Prince Danny Wylde - My Wifes Hot Friend
At the breakfast table, Marcus kissed her cheek. “Sleep okay?” The summer heat had baked the city into
She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached over and took the bottle from his hand, her fingers lingering. She brought it to her lips and drank the last sip. “I need to not think about that tonight.” the air conditioner hummed a low