Grayson

"Babe, who was that?" Christine asks, propping herself up on her elbow. The cream sheet clings to her curves, but her tone is flat—disappointed. Again.

"Club business," I answer, my voice clipped.

She nods, laying back down and turning away from me, her shoulders stiff.

I know I've let her down. I could get my dick up this time, but I just couldn't finish the way she needed me to. It's not her fault. She's beautiful, the most beautiful woman I've ever been ...