It’s rarely cold where I live, so I sleep naked year-round. Bare skin, sheets clinging, a thin scrap of fabric to contain the mess my body makes at night while I dream of you. My panties are meant to contain the slick when I wake already wet, already aching. But this time? I’m not wearing any. Maybe it’s because I want you to find me wanting, even before I’ve even fully woken. I’m on my side when I feel you behind me. You...