Mallory POV
I was still raw from the divorce when I walked into that hotel.
My ex had been broke, soft, and useless in bed. He couldn’t stay hard long enough to finish me, couldn’t keep a job long enough to keep the lights on, and somehow still managed to act like he was doing me a favor by marrying me.
I signed the papers, packed one suitcase, and booked a last-minute solo trip to a mid-tier beach hotel that smelled like sunscreen and cheap carpet cleaner.
I needed silence.
I needed space. I needed my cunt to stop aching for something that doesn't work.
The front desk girl smiled too wide and handed me a keycard. Room 412. Fourth floor.
I took the elevator, dragged my suitcase down the long hallway, and stopped outside the door when I heard strange sounds.
Deep male grunts.
T
