The afternoon sun had turned the house into an oven. By 2:30 the air felt thick, sticky, pressing against Lara’s skin like a second layer she couldn’t peel off. Sweat had already gathered under her breasts, in the small of her back, between her thighs. Every step made her aware of the slick slide of her body against itself.
She stripped in the hallway, leaving a trail of clothes like breadcrumbs leading to the bathroom. No point pretending anymore. The mirror in there was fogged before she even turned the water on.
Hot spray hit her like a slap—almost too much at first, then exactly right. Water pounded her shoulders, ran in rivers down her chest, over the heavy swell of her t**s, dripping off dark n*****s that were already hard again. She tilted her head back, let it soak her hair until
