There was nothing to mark the passing of time, nothing to separate one indignity from the next. The minutes ran like watercolors in the rain, a muck of colors mixing into a sordid shade of gray. Matt heard the slamming of the front door—Vic going to work? Without a kiss goodbye?
No. Kyle. Vic had no clue where Matt was, and even Matt himself had grown a little fuzzy on the details.
Kyle. Which meant that it must be morning, if he just left for work. And the footsteps heading down the hall to the bedroom, that stopped just outside the closet, those must still belong to Jordan.
A crack of light split the darkness, giving Matt a peek at the room beyond. Jordan stood in an old bathrobe, loosely cinched at the waist, the start of an erection already pushing through the terry cloth. In one
