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Ihate being here.

I hate sleeping in this bed, Clark’s marriage bed,

sleeping on his wife’s side while she’s away on business and waking up face-to-face with the knickknacks and nail polish on her bedside table.

And the baby oil! Why wouldn’t Clark have put that away before I came? Why the hell would I want to be reminded that he has sex with her too? More puzzlingly, why do I jump at every opportunity to stay the night?

Well, that question has an easy answer: it’s the wake- up call that keeps me coming back. It’s his arms circling my body before the sun comes up, when I’m still warm with sleep. He kisses my shoulder, walks his fingers down my belly, and I’m sold. I’ll put up with any amount of heartache if it means getting fucked first thing in the

morning.

My pussy’s never wet when he finds it, so Clark burrows under the covers to turn me on in the most effi- cient way possible. Spreading my legs, he situates himself between them and dives at the apex of my thighs. I don’t know
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