Serena’s POV

The hum of Daniel Hawthorne’s Bentley faded into the humid New Orleans night as I stepped onto the cracked sidewalk outside my East End apartment. My body still throbbed with the memory of him. His hands gripping my hips, his mouth on mine, the raw intensity of our sex in his penthouse bed.

I had let myself fall into him, no barriers, his whispered “I love being inside you” echoing as I came undone. My legs were shaky from a good fuck.

I let out a shaky breath as I ...