When I woke the next morning, my body felt as though it had been run over by a truck, every muscle aching in protest.

Malcolm was gone, leaving nothing but a satin-covered bolster pillow in his place.

When I went looking for him, the bathroom door was open and Malcolm emerged from within, his pheromones still lingering in the air that I could smell.

“Malcolm, you—“ my tongue failed to complete the sentence when he actually opened his bathrobe.

“Malcolm, what the hell are you doing!” I screamed while covering my eyes with my hands.

“Why are you acting like you’ve never seen it before?” Malcolm smirked, then pulled a...