Up Close with Casey Calvert

Casey leans in her front doorway with a sly little grin. She looks Dillon Diaz up and down like she’s unwrapping a gift. "A solid night of sleep and that sunny breeze put a spring in my step," she purrs, stepping aside, "but seeing you just bumped it to full-on skip." The door clicks shut, and they don’t bother with small talk. Hands tug shirts, belts snap open, mouths crush together hot and wet. Dillon’s palm slides down her back; Casey’s nails graze his chest. They bump into the hallway wall, pause to laugh against each other’s lips, then dive back in harder. Casey arches when his fingers slip under her waistband, and she catches his lower lip between her teeth. Breathless and grinning, she drags him deeper into the house. Her grin says she’s got the stamina—and the plans—to make the most of every inch of daylight they’ve got left.