Morning light cut across the guest-room floor in thin gold strips.
I woke to the ache between my legs and the memory of him still inside me. The door stood open exactly as he’d left it. My brother’s T-shirt was twisted around my waist. The sheets smelled like s*x and Dominic’s skin.
I sat up slowly. My thighs felt sticky. When I shifted, a dull, satisfying soreness reminded me exactly how hard he’d taken me.
Footsteps in the hallway.
Dominic appeared in the doorway already dressed in black joggers and a dark hoodie, hair still damp from a shower. He leaned against the frame the same way he had the night before and looked at me like he was cataloguing every mark he’d left.
“Breakfast is on the counter,” he said. “Eat. Then come find me.”
He turned and walked away before I could answer
