Chapter Two: Kitchen Island, 11:47 a.m.

Riley woke up sore in all the right places.

Her pussy felt swollen and used, thighs sticky with dried come, faint bruises blooming across her hips where Cade’s fingers had dug in. The boathouse had been real. She hadn’t dreamed it.

She rolled out of bed at ten thirty, every movement reminding her exactly how hard he’d fucked her. When she peeled off the ruined T-shirt, the mirror showed bite marks on her breasts, red handprints on her ass, ...