Britney's POV

The house was mine the second Chloe’s car disappeared down the drive.

I didn’t rush. I poured a glass of red wine, carried it upstairs, and changed into my top that had two thin triangles that barely contained my breasts, nipples faintly visible through the damp fabric. The bottoms sat low on my hips, high-cut on the sides, the strip of material between my legs. I left my hair damp and loose, water still beading on my collarbones and the tops of my breasts like I’d only just climbed out of the pool. I checked myself in the mirror then went out to the pool, sat on the...