Provocation and Counterstrike

The screen showed two high-definition photos, taken up close. In the soft lighting of a hotel room, George's sleeping profile was visible, but beneath his sharply defined face was the midsection of a woman's body, the details so fine that you could see goosebumps around her cherry lips and several kiss marks, quite a sensory overload.

The other photo was similar but taken from a slightly farther perspective, showing George's hand resting on her thighs... The sheets were a mess, hinting at the wildness before the shot was taken.

It was clearly a selfie, cropped to show just enough to identify the sexes of the subjects, nothing more.

Everything around me seemed to shake. I collapsed into my chair, clutching my chest, breathing heavily as if my heart had been pierced, blood bubbling up.