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“Liar,” I say, my eyes turning to take him in where he’s draped across a reclined pool chair, his tattooed muscles on display. “The last time I fucked you it was her name you were moaning.”
“What do you mean ‘you guys’? He hates my guts.” “Bitch, he wants to be in your guts. Not the same thing.”
“If you want this to end, turn off your phone. Leave this room, and we’ll go back to wanting to fuck each other from afar, okay? But if you want to play? Leave it on. Wait for a sign from me.” I stutter. “A sign? What, when?”
