The truck rumbled back into the driveway just after six-thirty. Doors slammed, bags rustled, and Jake’s loud laugh carried through the front door followed by Sarah’s lighter one.
Ethan sat in the living room, remote in hand, flipping through channels without really seeing anything. His mind kept looping back to the porch — the taste of Mia’s mouth, the weight of her breast in his palm, the way she had ground against his c**k like she was starving for him, then those quiet tears sliding down her cheeks when he pushed her away.
Jake burst in first, carrying two heavy bags of pool chemicals. “Mission accomplished! Filter part is in the truck. Chemicals are ridiculous heavy, though.” He dropped the bags with a thud.
Sarah followed, arms full of shopping bags, cheeks pink from the long drive
