After a shitty day at work her barbs hit their mark dead on. What they wanted was different. He wanted slow, gentle, easy. He wanted to whisper his l...ve for her. He wanted to cherish her body with hands and mouth. She wanted him to fuck her so hard her voice went hoarse from screaming. She wanted animal, blood, rutting, and messy sex. Things he was afraid to give her, but she demanded all the same. He kept a tight leash on the rage that lingered under his skin for a reason. Once he let go, he. It wasn’t that the photos revealed any lack of love and affection toward his wife and his child. It was that he looked so haunted and confused. Ada could not look at her son in this photo without the visage of the other photo, the photo she’d found on J. Harvey Kincaid’s nightstand, rising up out of the ether to float alongside it. And her heart stopped beating, if just for a second, each time she looked at one of the photographs of her son’s family. But then Ada would simply tuck the. More

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