what did we just do?”

He laughed, a low, breathless sound in her throat, and shifted his hips slightly, feeling her twitch inside him. Second set, four, her tank clinging,The Unfortunate Love her breath ragged, her eyes on his thighs. At 45, she carried herself with the confidence of someone who’d spent years climbing the corporate ladder–tall, toned from her morning runs, and still striking in her tailored skirt and crisp blouse. “Like this?” he asked, his voice gentle, turning to show her the form, his abs flexing as he held the peak.