RINA

I woke up the next morning feeling sore in the best way possible.

As I shifted beneath the fluffy sheets, a dull, delicious ache shot out from deep between my thighs and all across my lower back, a vivid physical reminder of exactly how I’d spent the previous night.

I couldn't help the slow, wicked smile that stretched across my face as I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the memory of Easton’s heavily tattooed hands gripping my hips and pinning me to that leather couch in that abandoned living room.

My skin still felt very hyper-sensitive because of his touch.

Eventually, the bright morning sun filtering...