Maya
I was three fingers deep in my best friend’s bed, her dad’s name caught in my throat, when the door opened.
The house was supposed to be empty. Lisa had left for her shift an hour ago. Derek had said he was running to the site and wouldn’t be back until dinner. I’d waited ten minutes, locked her bedroom door out of habit, and pulled the toy she’d hidden in her nightstand—the thick one she pretended she didn’t own. It wasn’t enough. I was on my back in her sheets, skirt around my waist, panties off, f*****g myself and picturing her father’s hands instead of mine when the lock turned and he stepped in.
Derek stopped in the doorway. Work boots. Dust on his jeans. Eyes on the place where the toy disappeared into me.
“Lisa’s not here,” I said. My voice came out thin. I didn’t pull the
