POV: Kesley

I stayed under the spray until my fingers pruned and the water ran tepid, then cold, then cold enough to make my teeth ache. The bathroom mirror had fogged over completely, and when I wiped a circle clear with my palm, the face staring back looked wrecked in a way makeup couldn't fix.

Flushed cheeks, pupils blown wide, lips slightly parted, the lower one red from where I'd been biting it. My hand drifted before I gave it permission.

It slid down the flat of my stomach, across the jut of my hipbone, into the slick heat between my thighs. One finger... Two.

The angle was wrong, standing...