Morning light cuts across the tangled sheets, Samantha stretches, her leg hooking over his waist possessively, nails grazing the ridge of his hipbone. She leans in, her breath hot against his ear. “Don't tell me you're leaving yet.”

On the other side of him her daughter shifts closer, trapping his arm between her soft breasts. The air is heavy with the scent of sex and perfume. He feels the pulse of their hearts and the heavy, warm weight of them pressing him into the mattress. “We haven't even had breakfast,” the mother purrs, her hand sliding lower beneath the duvet.