Postsex was normally the time men hounded me, desperate for reassurances of their sexual performance. William had zipped up his pants, tucked in his shirt, and walked away without a word—then completely ignored me. I’d blame it on the unsatisfying sex, but while he had neglected my pleasure, he certainly seemed to have had enough of his own.
Author’s done a great job. I really, really, really, hate this freaking woman.
