I woke up still wet.

The black lace was twisted around my hips from where I’d finally shoved two fingers inside myself in the dark, biting the pillow so Marcus wouldn’t hear me come to the thought of his best friend’s cock. My thighs were sticky. The garter belt had left red marks. I peeled everything off in the shower and stood under scalding water until my skin burned, trying to wash the memory of last night out of me.

It didn’t work.

Marcus was already in the kitchen when I came downstairs in an old T-shirt and nothing else. He looked like he hadn’t slept. Coffee in one hand,...