The moan came like a f*****g siren call... deep, drawn-out, guttural... echoing off the walls like a damn foghorn in a porno. I froze, one hand still on the doorknob, the other clutching my soul as it tried to escape through my ears. It was coming from Jynelle’s room. Loud. Vibrating. Timed. Rhythmic. That wasn’t a moan. That was a f*****g earthquake.
My brain immediately did what it does best... malfunction in technicolor.
What if Ryan had teleported here?
What if he mistook Jynelle for me?
What if... in some wild, warped, cosmic plot twist, he took a shortcut through a wormhole of lust, landed in my apartment, decided stealth was key and dove headfirst into Jynelle’s v****a to cover his tracks?
What if Jynelle had seduced him with her freaky alien voodoo and was now getting drilled
