11
WHITTON
The next morning should have been awkward.
Instead, I’d rolled Eve over, f****d her senseless for a third time in so many hours, and then we packed up and drove home. We didn’t even mention it on the drive. I let her pick the music, but not drive the car. There was only so much bending a man could take.
Once we got into Lubbock, she kissed me long and hard and drove herself home in her beat-up 4Runner that continued to cause her problems. And I’d sat in the parking lot, wondering what in the f**k I had just done.
I was still trying to figure it out on Monday morning as I worked on the paperwork for the Midland survey. Instead, my mind could only replay in vivid detail exactly what had happened after we completed the survey. The taste of her skin and the round of her ass and
