Zara’s POV

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Peter? Sneaking around my window after curfew like some desperate little pervert?” I snapped, my voice low and sharp as I yanked the curtain back fully, catching him right there with his face pressed against the glass, eyes wide and guilty.

My heart pounded hard in my chest from the surprise, but underneath that, a rush of something hotter stirred, seeing him frozen like a deer in headlights, his cheeks flushing deep red under the dim porch light.

I had been touching myself just moments ago, fingers buried deep between my thighs, chasing that building ache when I heard the...