I stood and took a cold shower. Just thinking of Jorel fucking my wife made me nauseous. I put on underwear and a robe, then lay on the bed, exhausted.

It was the work, obviously! I’d spent all day reading contracts on a glaring screen, stressing me out to the point I thought I wanted Olívia Stick-Figure. I’d never been into women like her—plain, predictable, with nothing good to offer.

*Just another whore, Gabe. The difference is, if you want to fuck her, you don’t have to pay.* ...