The morning sun filtered through the curtains as Kafka stepped out of the bathroom, toweling off his damp hair, his body fresh from a hot shower. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt, the fabric clinging to his still-warm skin, and made his way down the hallway.
His mind wandered to last night, a grin tugging at his lips as he thought about how wild it had gotten. What started as a tame, sneaky session with Abigaille had spiraled into something fierce, the bed rocking so violently he'd half-expected the frame to snap.
The noises, Abigaille's muffled moans, the creak of the springs, had gotten so loud they'd nearly woken Olivia, forcing them to sneak to his room to finish, stumbling back to bed exhausted but buzzing.
