Melanie.
Paris. Wednesday, eight days later…
A delightful bubble of laughter fills the room. Releasing joy from deep within my soul. My heart light, free of any prior burden. For the first time in years, a well of happiness erupts in me, like a fountain.
Am in Jayce's home. It's a manor house. A fairly large home. Too large for one person, if you ask me. But he has a few staff that takes care of everything. While he does his own cooking himself, unless he's hosting a large function.
We're in his living room, seated on the floor. We're surrounded by soft light. There's food, Jayce prepared for hours. I enjoyed watching him cook. There's something sexy about a man cooking. It's crazily erotic. We've got sliced baguettes, hot, steaming garlic soup, with juicy fried lamb soaked in the soup. It smells good and tastes good.
