I should have said my name when he put his hands on my ass in the dark.
I didn’t. I pushed back onto them instead, sleep shorts shoved aside, my sister’s husband’s wedding band cold against my c**t, two fingers already buried in the wrong cunt — and I let him call me baby and tell me I never got this wet in their bed, because for one filthy minute I wanted to be the wife he thought he was fingering.
The kitchen was black on purpose. I had not touched a switch. Light would have made me a guest in Tessa’s house. Dark made me the mistake we had already made once, three years ago, against this same counter.
Sleep shorts. No panties. A tank that had ridden up when I reached for a glass. I told myself I only wanted water. I had been telling myself clean things all day — the spare key, the mas
