I started waking up wet.

Not because he touched me in the night. Because my body had begun to anticipate him before I was even conscious. The sound of the shower in his bathroom was enough. The quiet clink of his watch on the dresser. By the time he opened the connecting door I was already aching.

Alexander noticed on the eleventh day.

He stood over the bed at 6:03 a.m., already dressed, and simply looked at the way my thighs were pressed together under the sheet. Without a word he pulled the sheet down, pushed my knees apart, and found me slick. A faint, cold smile touched his mouth....