Mom left at six-thirty with a travel mug and a kiss on his mouth.
The door shut. Cole looked at me over the rim of his coffee like the house had finally become what it was for.
“Clothes off. Leave them by the door. You don’t put them back on until she texts that she’s on her way.”
I stripped in the entryway. Hoodie. Shorts. The shirt that still had a ghost of last night’s mess on it. Cool air hit my t**s and the insides of my thighs. He pointed at the living room rug.
“Hands and knees. Crawl the downstairs. I want to watch that cunt move.”
I crawled.
Past the couch. Past the table he’d first f****d me on. My ass in the air, t**s hanging, knees burning on cheap carpet. He walked behind me with his coffee and when I reached the kitchen he set the mug on the small of my back like I was
