The upstairs hallway felt longer when I was naked.
My t**s moved with every step. My ass clapped softly against itself. Dried breakfast mess and fresh slick painted the insides of my thighs. I carried the laundry basket against my belly like it could hide anything. It couldn’t. A maid froze at the linen closet when she saw me. Young. Thin. The kind of body men were supposed to want.
She stared at the bite marks on my hip and the dried white on my chest.
“I belong to the three men in this house,” I said, because Vincent had told me to. My voice didn’t sound like mine. “They can look. They don’t touch.”
She backed up so fast she hit the shelf. I kept walking.
The master sheets came off in a heap that smelled like expensive soap and last night’s sweat. I stripped the bed on my hands and
