Chapter 1

Sandra stood in the dimly lit hallway of her apartment, slipping her key into the door lock. In her free hand was a silver gift bag containing the expensive wristwatch she had bought after saving most of her salary for the past three months.

Initially, she was supposed to work overtime, but after calling in a few favours, she had managed to leave work early, eager to surprise Mark with his gift.

As she walked inside the apartment, she heard the rhythmic slap of skin against skin and feverish groans echoing from the bedroom.

Standing outside the cracked door, Sandra’s blood ran cold. Her chest heaved as she pushed the bedroom door wide open, letting it bang loudly against the wall.

The scene inside froze her in place. Mark was on his hands and knees, suspended above a woman whose back was arched off the mattress, her fingers clawing frantically at the sheets. They had been riding the waves of passion before her entrance had interrupted them.

Mark snapped his head around, his eyes going wide with shock as his motion ground to a sudden halt at the very edge of his climax.

“How are you back?” he shouted, his voice cracking with ruined frustration.

She had texted him about her work arrangements. “Why would you do this?”

“If you weren’t so fucking frigid, I wouldn’t have needed someone else.”

For several seconds, Sandra simply stared at him.

Mark didn’t even have the decency to pull away or cover up before tossing the accusation at her. Across the unmade bed, the woman he had been cheating on her with frantically scrambled backwards, trying to bury her face under the duvet, but Sandra already recognized her.

This was Chloe, the new intern Mark was showing the ropes to at work. He had been coming home late for the past couple of weeks, blaming it on looming deadlines. She had understood. His company was working on a new project, and he also had to guide an intern. But everything had been a lie. He had been mentoring her so much that they ended up in her bed together.

Sandra stood paralyzed, fighting tears as her fingers tightened around the gift bag in her hand. Today was supposed to be their three-year anniversary.

“I caught you in our bed with another woman, Mark. And you’re blaming me?”

Mark sighed, running a hand through his hair as though she were making things unnecessarily difficult. He pulled himself off the bed without a shred of shame. “I’m not saying it’s entirely your fault. But you’re like a piece of wood every time I touch you. You don’t make me feel fulfilled. I have needs, and lying on top of a stone statue for twenty minutes every other day doesn’t cut it. You don’t know how to pleasure me.”

Sandra felt something inside her chest twist painfully. She had loved this man. She had given him three years of her life, putting his comfort above her own. Whenever her friend had talked about sex, she had made it seem like it was an out-of-this-world magical feeling. But since she had gotten with Mark, she had never felt anything.

Every encounter had just felt like a chore she had to complete, a mechanical ritual of heavy elbows, hasty thrusting, and awkward angles that left painful bruises over her body. Afterwards, Mark would simply roll off, satisfied and snoring within minutes, leaving her feeling sore, sticky, and empty. She had convinced herself that’s just how their relationship was. Not all relationships were passionate, and that love was all that mattered.

“Get out of my house.”

“What?”

“Get out of my house,” Sandra repeated, her voice hardening.

“Come on,” Mark said, finally getting up from the bed and walking towards her. Between his legs, his still-hard member was covered with liquid that she couldn’t tell if it was his or hers. The sight made her stomach turn. “Don’t tell me you’re going to let this little thing get in the way of our relationship. It’s just sex. You’re the one I love.”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”

“Sandra—”

Sandra went over to the closet, yanked the door open, and started picking out his clothes, tossing them violently out into the hallway. While Mark was still in shock, she picked up the ones they had discarded on the floor and threw them out too. The woman on the bed screamed, rushing to her feet with the blanket wrapped around herself as she grabbed her scattered heels.

Sandra pointed a finger toward the front door. “For the last time, get out of my house.”

“You’ll regret this,” he said, snatching the trousers she had missed off the floor.

Moments later, the front door slammed shut, echoing through the empty apartment.

Sandra remained standing in the middle of the living room, listening to the footsteps disappear down the hallway. She expected herself to cry, but the tears did not come. She just felt strangely empty.

Her phone buzzed.

She looked down.

It was a message from Quinn.

Quinn: Have fun with your boyfriend tonight. Don’t forget to use protection. I’m not ready to become a godmother yet

Sandra stared at it for a moment before typing back.

Sandra: We broke up.

The reply came almost immediately.

Quinn: I'm coming over.

Sandra frowned.

Sandra: He already left

Quinn: I’m coming for you.

A second message followed.

Quinn: But if I ever see him, I’m hitting him.

Despite everything, the corner of Sandra's mouth twitched.

Twenty-five minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

Sandra opened it to find Quinn standing outside with two tubs of ice cream and a bottle of wine tucked underneath one arm.

“Happy breakup.”

Two glasses of wine later.

“He’s an absolute pig,” Quinn declared, taking another sip. “A selfish, lazy bastard who couldn’t find a woman’s pleasure spot if he were reading an instruction manual. To have the nerve to cheat and then blame you?”

“Maybe he's right.” Sandra’s voice cracked. “What if there’s something wrong with me? I’ve never felt anything. What if I really am just... frigid?”

“He is not. He’s just pushing his own insecurities on you, and I’ll prove it,” Quinn said firmly. She reached into her purse, pulled out her phone, and tapped the screen before turning it toward Sandra

“Have I ever told you about Desire?”

“What is that?” Sandra asked, shaking her head

“It’s an exclusive app for one-night stands. Since it’s invite-only, everyone on the app is vouched for.”

Sandra blinked, looking from the phone screen to her friend. “So it’s like Tinder?”

“Not like Tinder. It’s anonymous. Only the people you agree to meet know what you look like. All you need to do is upload photos from your neck down. You can be as open as you like. The app then matches you based on what you explicitly ask for and physical attraction. It also books the hotel room, and what happens in the hotel room stays in the hotel room, except if you both want more. That’s how I met Julian.”

Julian was her current boyfriend, and they were the perfect couple.

Quinn gave her a look.

Sandra stared back.

“So what do you think?”

“I— I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t have to pick the first person you get matched with. You can look around until you’re satisfied, and it’s no strings attached.”

“Alright.”

Quinn's smile widened.

“You're sure?”

Sandra hesitated. “Yes.”

“I’ll send you an invite now.”

Almost immediately, her phone lit up with a new message from Quinn. She clicked the link, and the app started to download