Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

Damon
Present
Walking through the backdoor and Mikhail following, I
downed the rest of the bottle of water and tossed it into the
trash before dumping some food into his dish and letting him
chow down before I headed down the hallway and through the
foyer.
I brought my T-shirt to my nose as I climbed the stairs and
sniffed. Cigarettes and sawdust. It was probably on my skin,
too.
Eh, she’d deal with it.
I pulled the shirt off over my head and walked into the
bedroom, tossing it on the floor. “I’m dirty and sweaty,” I said,
kicking off my shoes, “but you’re just gonna have to roll with
it.”
Leaving the light off, I put a knee down on the end of the
bed and crawled up, dying to pin her hands above her head and
kiss her until she was begging to get fucked.
But as I reached her side of the bed, it was empty.
“Winter?” I called.