4

LAYLA'S POV 

The water ran down my back, wet and cold against my skin and I shuddered when I felt his hand wipe down on my back, slathering it with soap.

We were both naked in his shower and he was behind me, his hands all over me as he washed me like I was something fragile.

“Do you think….we should talk about what happened?” I asked, as his hand swiped over my shoulder, sponge rubbing over my skin as he wiped off traces of what happened.

I felt no regret for anything. How could I? Not like Thomas gave a fuck about me. I think that was what...