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Name: Tara Westchester Origin: Smuggler's spawn Job: Rigging crew / emergency helm Skills: Precision sailing and rigging / Sure-footed with strong winds expertise / Spices and preservatives / Tri-lingual (English, Dutch, French) Weaknesses...

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He let out a louder groan as he practically suffocated himself in her pillow.

Her ear twitched, thinking she heard her name, but brushed it off and kept cleaning. Her pillow smelled just like her and her citrus shampoo.

He was still laying in bed, sweating and starting to groan softly. “C..Cookie..” he said, moving to her side of the bed

Cookie set out a jug of cold lemonade for him to have when he took a break from working before going back to her cleaning.

His heart rate was up, his mind was slipping. His heat wasn’t supposed to be for a few weeks.

Cookie was doing her chores of keeping the house clean, completely unaware of his plight.

Reese soon felt something, he felt heavy, almost ill. Not now.

Cookie was glad that the harvest was done and she could have her husband back. She had been really touch starved, and even though they had been making up, it didn't feel like enough.

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