Instrumental for a scene that ends with 'Watch me.' You'll know what I mean
Ethan was right.
That was the worst part.
The room was thick with it — the smell of sex and sweat and something sweeter underneath, like the cheap body spray Rachel must have worn to the rave the night before. It clung to the sheets, to her skin, to the air itself. Beneath was the sharper edge of Colt’s leather and the faint, expensive trace of Ethan’s cologne, undercut by the wine he’d been drinking since morning. Alex could taste all of it on the back of his tongue.
He had been part of this the second he said I want to see her eyes.
He knew that. He’d known it while he was still standing in the doorway, trying to be the responsible one. The responsible one didn’t ask to see the drugged girl’s face. The responsible one didn’t feel his cock twitch when she looked at him like he was the first warm thing in the room.
But here he was. Kneeling between her cuffed thighs like he belonged there.
