He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him as he fucked her harder, faster. “You’re mine,” he said fiercely, his eyes boring into hers. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she whispered, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. I’m not, she thought. Not really.But she didn’t care anymore. The pleasure was too much, too overwhelming to resist. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with ecstasy as Jake drove into her with relentless fervor.
Her climax hit her suddenly, crashing over her like a tidal wave. She cried out, her head falling back as waves of pleasure tore through her. Jake didn’t stop, didn’t slow down if anything, he pushed harder, chasing his own release. When it came, he buried himself deep inside her with a guttural groan, his body shuddering as he spilled himself within her.
For a moment, they stayed like that, both of them panting and trembling from the intensity of it all. Then Jake pulled out, leaning heavily against the wall as he caught his breath. Kylee slid down onto unsteady legs, she avoided his gaze, the guilt finally catching up to her. But even as she stood there, trying to steady herself, she couldn’t shake the images, the fantasies, of Rio out of her head.
And she knew, deep down, that this wasn’t over. Not even close.
Jake straightened up, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he looked at her. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.
She nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah,” she lied. “I’m fine.”
Afterward, Jake drifted off quickly beside her, one arm slung lazily across her stomach, his breathing deep and even. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the distant rustle of night air through the trees outside their window.
Kylee laid wide awake, staring at the shadows dancing on the ceiling. Her body was still warm from the sex skin flushed, hair tousled, legs tangled in the sheets but her chest felt hollow.
What had just happened wasn’t passion. It was muscle memory. Familiar. Safe. Empty.
She turned her head slightly, looking at Jake in the dim light. He looked peaceful. Satisfied. Like a man who believed he still knew every part of her. She blinked back the sting in her eyes. The ache between her legs wasn’t for him. It was Rio who haunted her.
Rio, with his wild eyes and chaotic energy. Rio, who made her feel like a woman instead of just a mother, a wife, a placeholder in her own life.
What scared her most wasn’t that she thought of him during sex with her husband. It was how easy it had been. How right it had felt to surrender to the fantasy.
She curled onto her side, facing away from Jake, pulling the blanket to her chest like it could shield her from the guilt building in her ribcage. Maybe she hadn’t physically cheated. But her heart had cracked open. And Rio Riot was still standing inside it.
A week had passed, and Kylee had slipped back into the rhythm of her routine like nothing ever happened. Coffee brewed before sunrise.
Jake kissed her on the cheek on his way out, briefcase in one hand and coffee in the other.
“Have a good one,” he called, already halfway out the door.
“You too,” Kylee replied, voice steady, smile in place.
The door shut behind him. Silence fell.
She finally exhaled.
Turning toward the sink, she reached for her own cup of coffee when her phone buzzed on the counter. Just one notification. Instagram. A DM.
Kylee glanced at the screen. Then froze.
Rio Riot:Kylee, my beautiful Idaho. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since New Orleans. Please call me. 897-967-5621.
Her breath caught. Her hand went numb. The phone slipped from her fingers and hit the tile with a dull clatter.
She stared at it like it had just whispered a secret she wasn’t supposed to hear.
Her heart thundered in her chest.
Without thinking, she snatched it back up and dialed the one person who would understand.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she muttered into the phone.
Kelly answered, groggy. “What’s wrong? You okay, it's 7am?”
Kylee’s voice was a whisper, as if the walls had ears.
