CHAPTER 8

ISLA

They’ll think you’re hiding something.

“I am.”

Exactly.

The train lurched forward, and I swayed. The motion made the damp heat between my thighs slosh — yes, slosh — and I bit back a tiny gasp.

Every sway of the train is a reminder you’re still full.

My face burned.

A man in a suit stepped in at the next stop, ending up right in front of me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne. His thigh brushed mine when the train shifted again.

They can smell you.

“No—”

You reek of it. Of me.

I pressed my knees tighter together.

You’ll drip on the floor....