Chapter Fifty Three
Keeley kicked off her heels by the front door, grinning to herself like a girl sneaking in after curfew. Mark barely stirred in bed — just a grunt and a shift, dragging the comforter tighter around himself like she was already an inconvenience. Keeley stood there in the dark, letting her dress slip off her shoulders and pool at her ankles. She felt electric. Dizzy in the good way. Still buzzing from her bath, from her fantasy, from the flickering heat Owen had planted under her skin. She slid into bed naked, curling against Mark’s back, her fingers dancing down his stomach with playful, teasing strokes. “Wake up,” she whispered against his ear. Mark groaned low — not the good kind — and batted her hand away like a fly. Keeley huffed, undeterred. She tugged at the waistband of his
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