THE SINFUL HOUR COLLECTION
She has no idea there won’t be one.
Tyler comes down first—barefoot, sweatpants low on his hips, face cold and blank. I follow right behind, wearing only his open dress shirt. It barely covers the fresh hickeys blooming across my neck and chest; my thighs are still sticky from last night.
Jessica turns with a bright smile. “Oh hey, honey! Good morning. Just getting ready for a little errand lat—”
Her smile dies the second she sees me behind him, half-exposed, belly rounded, looking thoroughly fucked.