JACE
I WOKE UP with a sore ass, dried c*m between my thighs, and no cuffs in sight. No cold floor. No blood crusted on my lip. Just the ache in my hips and the sticky mess between my legs to remind me of what I let him do to me last night.
Let him.
I snorted, rolling onto my back.
The sheets smelled faintly of sweat and something like the scent of oil. The room wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t some rundown dump either. Plain walls, smooth and freshly painted. Minimalist furniture—sleek, modern, no unnecessary clutter. The closet door stood slightly ajar, revealing carefully arranged shoes and shirts hanging in perfect order.
Control freak.
The guy was gone. Silence filled the apartment except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant noise of the city.
I could run. Hell, I
