The weekdays became a rhythm. Every morning, Derek and Jennifer left for work, leaving the huge mansion in silence. Except it wasn’t silent—because Stiles was there. And Stiles knew she had Grandpa Peter all to herself.

She leaned against the doorway of his room the first morning after they left, dressed in nothing but a lacy black bra and a matching thong. The thin straps clung to her soft white skin, and her breasts sat heavy and round, spilling over the cups. The thong disappeared between the swell of her ass, leaving nothing to imagination.