RING! RING!

Sky’s phone went off like a damn fire alarm.

She groaned, face buried in a pillow that still smelled like sex and sin. Her legs were limp. Her thighs ached. Her body was wrecked, still glistening in sweat, cum, and fucking honey. Her hair was stuck to her face, and somewhere in the room, a vibrator lay dead from overuse like a fallen soldier.

The phone buzzed again. And again.

“Ugh,” Sky croaked, reaching blindly for it, her fingers fumbling across the nightstand, knocking over the candle, a bottle of lube, and—was that a condom wrapper stuck to her wrist?

Xavier:

I’ll be waiting at the place I...