TATE
I WOME UP sore, and not the good kind or the fleeting kind either. This was the kind of soreness that felt like my body had been taken apart, shaken hard, and put back together by someone who hadn’t bothered checking the instructions afterward.
My ass was the first thing that throbbed, a deep, aching throb that made me hiss under my breath and go very, very still. It pulsed slowly, like my body was determined to remind me of every choice I’d made the night before.
Then everything else chimed in.
My thighs burned when I shifted even a fraction. My back felt stiff, my shoulders sore like I’d held myself too tight for too long, and my neck—
“f**k,” I muttered.
I lifted a hand and brushed my fingers along the side of my throat, and the second I touched it, pain shot enough to knock
