The room felt too small, the ceiling too close, and she stared at it, her mind drifting–tomorrow’s rest, Ken’s presentation, the odd pull she felt toward him despite her exhaustion. what, cursed? This isn’t a fairy tale, Ken.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to my legs,” he muttered, shifting his weight again. Second set, twenty-five, his shoulders burning,Rape His Sister sweat pooling, his shorts damp. Ken stirred first, his tall, athletic frame sprawled across the king-sized bed, white sheets tangled around his hips.