The doorbell's chime shattered their domestic illusion—Junho mid-sentence about Jungkook's Oscar-winning performance. She opened the door to find Jungkook's sinful smirk inches from her lips, his tailored suit doing nothing to conceal the aggressive bulge straining against his zipper. His palm slapped against the doorframe beside her head before she could gasp. "Missed me?" he purred, tongue tracing her jawline as his free hand hiked up her skirt—exposing the tattoo to the humid night air.

Junho's wineglass shattered when he rounded the corner. His idol was here—in their apartment—pinning his wife against the doorframe with one thigh shoved between her legs.