In West Village
Nora, who was fast asleep, was just beginning to wake up. The bright light seeping in through the curtains were enough to alert her that it was late in the morning knowing she had slept late too. Her lips curved up and she moaned feeling feathery kisses being planted at the back of her neck all the way to shoulder blade.
"Still not enough?" She murmured with her eyes closed.
"This is your fault for depriving me of my needs for the past few days", George answered, still planting kisses before he suddenly stopped. "You still haven't given me my answer."
She sighed internally, "Amy needed help, we both know that."
"There's nothing wrong with helping someone but putting your life in danger is an entirely different issue", he countered.
