Serena’s POV
The hum of Daniel Hawthorne’s Bentley faded into the humid New Orleans night as I stepped onto the cracked sidewalk outside my East End apartment. My body still throbbed with the memory of him. His hands gripping my hips, his mouth on mine, the raw intensity of our s*x in his penthouse bed.
I had let myself fall into him, no barriers, his whispered “I love being inside you” echoing as I came undone. My legs were shaky from a good f**k.
I let out a shaky breath as I clutched my bag and the takeout Daniel had ordered his chef to pack for me as I climbed the creaky stairs, my heart tangling with desire and doubt.
Inside, the apartment was dark, Mia’s soft snores drifting from the couch. My phone buzzed before I could set the bag down, Daniel’s name lighting up the screen. I
