Subconsciously, I knew Preston and his friends were downstairs, and how terrible this would be if we were caught. There were consequences, and Greg’s were much worse than my own. But it wasn’t revenge that allowed him to undo the metal snap of my shorts with a silent click, or drop my zipper, one slow tooth at a time. I didn’t care about my ex-boyfriend. Every nerve ending in my body clamored for the man before me.
