WESTON

She stands with her hands on her hips, her hair wild and untamed. She looks mussed and sexy.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“Yes.” She sways a little as she crosses one leg over the other nervously.

“You look like it. Are you drunk?” She shakes her head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I stopped drinking before eleven.” Her tone is clipped. “Are you going to help me with this zipper or not?” She tries to reach it again with no success.

“Why don’t you come here first,” I say as I pat my thigh. “Have a seat for a moment.”

“I want to get this dress off.”

I drag...