Laptop

Hayley Marie Coppin sprawls across the sofa with her laptop open, all bare legs and casual grace, surrounded by a jumble of richly coloured cushions in deep red and warm gold. She is supposed to be working, or browsing, or doing absolutely anything other than looking like the most irresistible distraction in the room. Her blonde hair is loose and tousled, her blue eyes lined with smoky shadow, and the black bra she is wearing becomes less and less of a priority the longer she lounges there, setting the laptop aside and stretching out among the cushions with a very specific look on her face.

The bra strap slips from her shoulder, and Hayley does absolutely nothing to stop it. She reaches back and unclips it instead, letting it fall, those full bare breasts freed with the ease of a woman who has decided the afternoon has much better things on offer than a screen. She props herself up on one elbow and looks straight into the camera with those heavy-lidded blue eyes, the tattoo curling at her wrist, and her curves glowing warm against the jewel-toned cushions. Whatever she was looking at on that laptop, it has nothing on what she is showing now.

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