Summer Succor
She'd been hurt and needed the kind of succor only her cousin could provide
Craig Hardin lay on the old, overstuffed couch in his cousin's apartment pretending to be asleep. In fact, he'd been wide-awake ever since someone padded into the dark living room, knelt beside the couch, and cautiously slipped soft fingers inside his boxers. It had to be his cousin, Robin Stuart. After all, it was her apartment and they were alone. But what the hell was all this about? She'd been asleep a few minutes ago...