It had been nine months since I’d last seen her. Nine months since that weekend at the beach house, where we crossed a line we were never supposed to cross, best friends, they called us. But after the things we did to each other, after the way she screamed my name with my cock buried deep inside her, ‘friends’ was a word that didn’t mean a damn thing anymore. We didn’t talk much after. A few texts. A couple of missed call...

We checked in just after noon. The beach house sat like a secret at the end of a winding drive, shrouded by palms and kissed by ocean breeze. Two stories of weathered wood and white trim, with a wraparound deck and a back door that led straight onto private sand. We’d been talking about this trip for years, half as a joke, half as a fantasy. And now, here we were. Just the two of us. Daisy dropped her bag by the door and...