This Isn’t Love. It’s Worse

She comes home in a storm and finds the one man she swore she'd never forgive standing half-dressed in her father's doorway. Lena didn't plan to see Caleb Marsh again. She definitely didn't plan to feel everything at once-the anger, the ache, the heat that never died. But the house creaks the same, the rain won't quit, and the past doesn't knock before it walks in. What starts with sharp words turns into a night she can't shake and a motel room that smells like bleach and bad decisions.
Between apology and relapse, between "leave" and "don't you dare, " they keep choosing touch over pride. It's filthy. It's honest. And it hurts in all the ways that feel like truth. This is a second-chance, forced-proximity erotic romance about two people who never stopped wanting each other and finally stop pretending they did. Expect explicit scenes, dirty talk, angst, and raw vulnerability. No fade to black.
Everyone is 18+. When the rain breaks, they do the brave thing: they get in the truck and go anyway. No map. No plan. Just them, bent enough to fit and reckless enough to try again. HFN with heat and heart.