📚The Door Was Never Locked
He told himself he’d just drop by to talk. It was late — too late to pretend he wasn’t there for more than words. But the door was never locked, and she never said no. She opened it before he could knock — like she’d been waiting in the dark, phone in hand, ready to pull him back in. Her hair was a mess, t-shirt barely covering the tops of her thighs. No bra. No makeup. Just her mouth — soft, swollen, and already parted for him. She didn’t greet him — just tugged him inside by his collar, slammed the door with her foot and pressed him against it so hard he felt the wood crack behind his shoulder blades. Her kiss wasn’t sweet — it was hungry, reckless, her teeth scraping his lower lip as if punishing him for staying away too long. She tasted like leftover wine and something sweeter he couldn’t name — the same taste that always haunted him when he lay alone in his too-big bed. She pulled his shirt over his head, nails dragging hot trails down his chest. He tried to grab her hips, but she...