She dipped her fingers into the pool of melted wax in the candle. Ouch. It was a mighty storm, judging by the energy she felt building in the air. ...She let the wax cool on her finger and then pealed it easily away, making it into a ball between her finger and thumb, then dropping it back into the depression in the top of the candle, watching it melt back into the pool. She glanced up at him and watched as He tilted his glass and finished the last of the amber fluid in the glass. He butted. Neither put any clothes on. I watched two totally different but incredible asses leave the room. I heard them downstairs as they talked and laughed. Dishes were rattling, and the refrigerator was opened and closed several times. Somehow, I suspected something devious was being planned.They came up the stairs and all they had was three glasses of orange juice. “That does not look like breakfast to me.”“Drink it,” said Amy. I did, and it was more champagne than orange juice.Brittany stepped. More

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