"Lucy, you need to leave," Caleb said firmly as he stepped through the door. His voice carried the weight of someone trying to draw a line, one he'd drawn before and failed to keep.
But then he saw her.
She lay stretched out on the couch, bare and deliberate, her skin glowing softly under the dim light. Her body was perfectly still, posed like a sculpture carved from temptation. She didn't look at him...she didn't need to.
His breath caught. His resolve faltered.
"What are you doing?" he asked, though part of him already knew.
"Just one last time," she whispered, her voice barely audible, laced with something between a plea and a dare.
Caleb stood there frozen, torn between reason and want. He hated how well she knew him, how she could still pull him in like gravity.
And then he moved.
