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I had just fucked my husband’s brother.

And the most fucked-up part?

I wanted to do it again.

I stared at the kitchen counter.

Then the table.

Then Levin.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I covered my face.

“Damn, Sam.”

I heard Levin chuckle.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I ain’t say nothing.”

“You laughed.”

“Because you standing there looking like you just seen a ghost.”

“I might’ve.”

I dropped my hands and started fixing my dress.

My legs felt funny.

Hair probably looked crazy.

My purse was on the fucking floor.

One shoe was damn near underneath the kitchen table.

This nigga had completely dismantled me in a kitchen that still smelled like Thanksgiving ham and macaroni and cheese.

I looked around.

“Where the fuck are my panties?”

Levin paused.

Then looked around too.

“I don’t know.”

He laughed.

“This shit not funny. I’m not leaving this house without my fucking panties.”

“Why? Xay doing inspections when you get home?”

I slowly looked at him.