Vanessa. Vanessa. Her name was pure pleasure on his tongue, impossible to say without an exultant smile. Smooth as the silk of her skin, sweet as the scent of jasmine in her hair, soft as the sensuous touch of her hand. His every prayer answered. Nessa.
He worried that he’d suddenly wake up and find that it wasn’t real. That she didn’t really smile at him with his kiss lingering on her lips, that the tenderness in her eyes was merely a trick of the light. His Vanessa. How was it even possible that those words together can be true?