I knelt on the thick rug, the apron’s strings cutting slightly into the small of my back, while the dim lamplight painted long gold slashes across the floorboards. Across from me, Kate lounged against Kris’s chest, her robe parted just enough that I could see one rose-tipped breast swell with each slow breath. Kris’s hand was buried in her dark hair; I watched his knuckles flex as he gathered a fistful, tugging her head b...