Mara
The camera on my phone caught the exact moment the front door opened.
I was on my knees on the living room rug, tank top shoved up under my breasts, shorts and panties already on the floor, two fingers buried in my cunt while I filmed myself for the ex who still hadn’t blocked me. The angle was low and filthy—spread thighs, slick shine, the wet sound of my fingers loud in the empty house. Mom was three states away for the week. My stepdad was at work. I’d locked the door. Or I thought I had.
Reed stepped inside with the spare key in his hand and stopped.
He didn’t look surprised. He looked like he’d been expecting exactly this. Forty-something, broad through the shoulders, the same quiet friend of my stepdad’s who’d been coming by to “check on the house” since Mom left. His eyes m
