I step off the elevator onto the penthouse floor,
my heart pounding in my chest like it’s my very first shoot all over again.
It’s been ten long years since I retired from the adult industry—
ten years of trying to build a “normal” life,
dating vanilla guys who could never quite scratch that deep, filthy itch,
waking up in the middle of the night with my fingers buried knuckle-deep in my cunt,
replaying old scenes in my head until I came so hard the sheets were soaked.
But when that single text lit up my phone three nights ago—
“Unofficial reunion. Same hotel. Same suite. Come filthy.”—
there was no hesitation.
No names, no signatures, just those four words that hit me like a slap straight to my swollen c**t.
I knew instantly who sent it.
Jax.
He always had that blunt, command
