His host is about to pull a gun from under his wooden floor and blow his fecking head off. The only hole in that plan is that I don’t own a gun. And the floor is carpeted. Never mind. This plan clearly cannot work.

“Asleep, probably. His door is closed,” she replies.

I listen as they make their way to their room, which I never bothered showing them, bumping into every single object on their way. They sound more sauced than an enchilada. Their door clicks shut, but there’s only one, thin wall separating us, and you can hear everything through it.

The kissing stops, but something far worse starts. She’s moaning now, and I can tell she’s not faking it, because I know what she sounds like when she comes.

“Love,” Shiny Boyfriend rasps.

I hear a zipper rolling down. I dig my fingers into my skin until I draw blood. It feels like every inch of my body is wrapped in thorns.

“Bite down on your dress. He’s going to hear us.”

He’s already hearing you, you oxygen-wasting pillock.

I jump to my feet like the bed is on fire, throw my door open, and take the two steps to their door. Rather than knock, like a normal human being, I push it open like the manner-less cunt Aurora is starting to become familiar with.

I fold my arms over my chest at the door, watching them lazily. Aurora is plastered against the wall, and Shiny Boyfriend is on his knees, carpet-munching. She is naked save for a black lace bra, and he is licking the outline of her bare pussy—perfectly, beautifully shaved—when I clear my throat and make myself comfortable against the doorframe. They both crack their eyes open.

Aurora lets out a yelp, but he remains angled right next to her pussy, protecting her modesty.

Don’t bother, mate. I’ve seen it so close I can recognize it in a lineup.

“She likes it when you suck her clit and use your fingers at the same time.” I shove my fists into my pockets, yawning the sleep away. “But quite partial to clit-pinching. Go figure.”

Rather than appreciating my helpful pointers, Aurora leans down, picks up one of her shoes, and hurls it in my direction with a Celtic roar. I dodge it, yawning again for good measure. I hope she takes photos better than she aims, or Ryner is going to have a problem.

“Had a good night?” I look around.

Really, I should do something with this room. Maybe burn it to the ground so they won’t have any privacy.

“Get the hell out!” she screams.

She is so red, her white scar shines bright like the moon. Her spineless boyfriend scurries up, hands her a dress, and rearranges his boner in his trousers.