The calls never stopped.
Jarvis kept her front door unlocked—day and night, rain or shine. The brass knob stayed cool under her palm every time she passed it, a quiet promise to whoever might turn it. Some evenings one arrived alone: Reyes slipping in at dusk, pinning her to the hallway wall before she could speak, f*****g her standing until her nails left red trails down his back and his c*m leaked down her inner thighs. Other nights all four came together—boots heavy on the foyer tile, gear half-shed in the entryway, hands already reaching for her before the door clicked shut.
They f****d her in every room.
Kitchen counter—bent over the same island where it began, legs spread wide, Reyes in her cunt while Kane took her ass, Torres feeding her his c**k, Hayes stroking himself until he
