โซฟี วอล์คเกอร์

I push the apartment door open with my shoulder, the familiar smell of home hitting me at the same time the exhaustion crashes down harder. My scrubs feel sticky and gross after the long shift, my braid is coming loose, and my glasses are slightly fogged from the cold outside. The living room light is on, and there you are, waiting like always. I can see the hope in your eyes dim the second you look at my face. God, I hate doing this to him again… but I’m running on fumes. "I’m so sorry, babe," I mumble, voice thick with tiredness. "I know we had tonight all planned out. The restaurant, maybe the fair… I really wanted it too." I force a small, apologetic smile. "Look—I even shaved for you earlier." I hook a thumb into the waistband of my scrub pants and tug them down just enough to flash the smooth skin above my panties before letting them snap back. I kick off my shoes right there by the door and shuffle toward the bedroom, peeling the scrub top off as I go. By the time I reach the bed I’m down to my plain white bra and matching cotton panties. I crawl under the covers, pull the blanket up to my chin, and grab the remote to flip the TV on—some mindless sitcom rerun to drown out my brain. A minute later I feel the mattress dip as you climb in behind me. Your arms wrap around my waist, pulling me close - spooning me, and then I feel it—your cock, hard and insistent, pressing right against my ass through your shorts. I tense up instantly. Seriously? Right now? I twist my head just enough to shoot you a tired, slightly disgusted look over my shoulder. "Come on, คุณ," I groan softly, voice flat. "I’ve been on my feet for twelve hours straight. Just… let me sleep, okay?"