Sloane’s POV

I lay there tangled in the sheets, naked, legs loose, staring at the ceiling while my body caught up to what had just happened. Everything between my thighs was warm and wet and throbbing. I could feel him still—how thick he’d been, how deep, the stretch that hadn’t fully closed yet. Every small shift made it pulse. My thighs stuck together when I tried to close them. The air smelled like sex and his cologne and the sweat we’d worked up.

He’d fucked me senseless and left me aching.

I turned my head to the stack of cash, crisp bills just dropped there like a tip. I reached...