Marshall

by Kara Hart

the station. If he’s banging on the door this hard, God only knows what’s happened. “Alright, alright!” I yell. “I’m getting up.” I glance over at the left side of my bed and there’s a body next to me. No, not like that. She’s alive and she’s, well, fine as hell. She’s beautiful, young, and her ass practically shines against the moonlight coming through

Hhhggj