I woke up with his c*m dried on my inner thigh and my door standing open like an invitation I hadn’t meant to send.
The lake house was quiet except for the tick of heat in the vents and the lake hitting ice somewhere below the windows. I was twenty-four years old, naked in my stepfather’s guest room, legs still loose from how I’d fallen asleep because he’d told me to keep them that way. When I sat up, the dried mess pulled at my skin. I didn’t wash it off.
The hallway runner was rough under my knees.
I crawled because walking felt like cheating. My t**s hung and swayed. My ass was cold. By the time I reached the kitchen tile my n*****s were tight and my mouth was already open.
Alexander stood at the stove in black sweatpants and nothing else. Coffee. Bacon. The same body that used to s
