One Night Stand Series

/Esme/

  My whole body ached as I tried to turn over. Every inch of me throbbed with a sweet soreness that reminded me of the night before. I'd had the most amazing dream at least, I thought it was a dream. Every sensation still lingered like heat in my blood, like magic on my skin. The way his hands had moved over me, the way I came apart twice under his touch...

  And then I heard his voice.

  "I see you're wet this early, Sunshine."

  That deep, sinful voice yanked me straight out of my haze. I opened my eyes immediately and sat up, only to see him Felix standing by the bed, his fingers glistening as he slowly licked them clean. The same fingers that had just been inside me.

  My breath caught. My thighs clenched on instinct. I wanted him to do it again.

  The memories of last night came crashing back in a rush of heat and shame. My body remembered everything.

  "I'd love to have you again," he murmured, his voice like velvet against my skin, "but your phone has been ringing nonstop. Pick it up before we continue."

  I nodded, dazed and weak, reaching for my phone. Without even checking the caller ID, I swiped the green icon to the left and brought it to my ear.

  "Where the fuck are you?"

  Dave's voice hit me like cold water sharp, loud, and full of worry and anger. It snapped me out of the moment.

  The sexual tension vanished in an instant. Panic replaced it.

  "I-I'm coming," I stammered and hung up immediately, my heart now racing for very different reasons.

  I jumped off the bed, the sheets clinging to my naked body, and looked around frantically.

  "I have to go," I muttered, trying to stay calm as I scanned the floor. "Where the hell are my clothes?"

  Felix stood there, completely relaxed, watching me with a smirk tugging at his lips. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and leaned against the wall like he had all the time in the world.

  "You won't find them."

  I froze and looked at him. "What?"

  "I ripped them of you last night remember," he said casually. "If you want clothes to wear... give me your number first."

  I blinked at him, unsure if he was being serious or just a smug bastard. "You're kidding."

  "Nope," he replied, still calm. "That's the deal."

  I wrapped the bedsheet around myself, my nerves shot. "This isn't a game, Felix. I need to go. Now."

  He took a slow step toward me. "Are we meeting later?"

  I didn't answer.

  He raised a brow. "Still not talking?"

  I looked away, cheeks flushed with shame, lust, and confusion. My life felt like it was spinning out of control. All I wanted was to run but my body still burned for him.

  "I'm not going to beg," he said after a moment. "But I'm not giving you your clothes either."

  I groaned, biting my lower lip as I stood there awkwardly. "Seriously?"

  He tilted his head. "Seriously. I deserve your number at the very least, don't you think? I made you come twice with just my fingers, Sunshine."

  My knees nearly buckled at the memory, and he saw it the way my body still responded to him even in panic.

  I grabbed a pen from the desk nearby and scribbled my number on a sticky note. I slapped it into his palm, refusing to meet his eyes.

  "There," I snapped. "Now give me some clothes to wear."

  With a crooked smile, he walked to the dresser and pulled open a drawer. He tossed a long shirt folded in my direction. "Pleasure doing business with you."

  I caught them mid-air and turned my back to him, throwing them on with shaky hands. I needed to get out before I did something even dumber.

  As I reached the door, I heard his voice behind me low and promising.

  "Tomorrow," he said, "I'm going to be inside you."

  I froze for a split second... then left without looking back.

  I slammed the door behind me, heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape. The hallway reeked of old wood polish and stale air, but all I could smell was him. His scent clung to my skin warm, intoxicating, sinful.

  What the hell did I just do?

  My fingers trembled as I think about who among my friends could have drugged me, It was no time to feel guilty. No time to process anything.

  Who among is capable of this, I get that they want me to have a sex life filled with orgasm but do they really have to go that low?

  I tried to run from my thought about Felix.

  But no matter how far I ran, how fast I moved, he followed me. In my thoughts. On my body. Under my skin.

  That voice.. deep, commanding, sinful.

  Those hands possessive and knowing.

  His lips.... God, the way they made me moan in the dark.

  A complete stranger.

  And the most insane part?

  I didn't even know his real name. Felix, that's all he told me. I had kissed him, let him get on his knees for me, let him own me like he had the right and I still didn't know a damn thing about who he really was.

  And I wanted to.

  Jesus.

  Even now, my thighs still ached from the way he'd stretched me open. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers inside me... then the image of him licking those same fingers clean. Like I was his favorite dessert. My nipples tightened embarrassingly beneath my bra at the memory.

  I made it back to my apartment, practically sprinted into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut behind me. I leaned into the mirror, clutching the sink, searching my reflection for... I don't know. A reason. A sign. A woman I recognized.

  But all I saw was someone unraveling.

  My towel clung to my still-damp skin, and for a second, I thought if I stared hard enough, maybe I'd find the girl I was before last night.

  But all I could think about was him the way he whispered against my neck: "Tomorrow, I'll be inside you."

  What the actual hell was I doing?

  My phone buzzed on the counter, breaking me from the spiral.

  Dave.

  Of course.

  I groaned, grabbed the phone, and hesitated before I tapped the screen. His name glowing felt like a punch.

  Dave: Hey babe. I hope you haven't forgotten we're having brunch with my dad today. It's by noon. Dress nice, please. I love you.

  Shit.

  My stomach twisted.

  Brunch. With his father. The man he never talked about. The one with too many failed marriages and even more secrets. Every time I asked, Dave would just smile and say, "You'll see when you see."

  Well. Today, I guess I would see.

  And here I was freshly fucked by a masked stranger, sore in all the right and wrong places, still tasting last night in the back of my throat. And I was supposed to play the part of the sweet, devoted fiancée? Like nothing happened?

  Dave was good. Sweet. Reliable. Safe.

  He loved me.

  And I owed him this brunch.

  With a heavy sigh, I stripped off my towel and stepped into the shower. The water ran hot, burning almost. I stood under it for too long, hoping it could scrub the shame off my skin. But even after, I still felt... branded.

  I got dressed soft yellow sundress, some light makeup, and my hair pulled back tight to look neat and composed. I stared at myself in the mirror before leaving, making sure I looked "nice."

  And I did.

  But inside?

  I felt like a lie.

  --

  The restaurant was tucked inside a private hotel sleek, discreet, expensive. The kind of place with clean marble floors, linen tablecloths, and champagne glasses that sparkled like diamonds under the soft light.

  I spotted Dave before he saw me, standing tall outside the entrance in his crisp button-down shirt, wearing that familiar, easy smile he always gave me. That boy-next-door charm I used to find comforting. Look at him alone remains of why I love him so much.

  He stepped forward and kissed my cheek.

  "You look beautiful, baby," he said, his voice warm, gentle.

  I forced a smile, looping my arm into his. "Thanks, honey." My guilt was killing me.

  Everything about him was perfect. Stable. Safe. So why did my skin still feel raw from the way Felix touched me? Why did I feel like I was wearing someone else's body?

  Dave chuckled nervously, still holding my hand like I might float away. "Nervous about meeting my dad?"

  Before I could say a word, he answered for me. "Not at all. You'll charm him like you do everyone."

  I nodded again, letting him guide me forward, but my stomach churned.

  We were led through the lobby and into the dining area a private table near the window, set for three. A chilled bottle of wine waited for us in a silver bucket beside the table, its condensation dripping slowly onto the pristine white cloth.

  "He should be down to meet us any second," Dave said as he reached for the bottle. "He likes to make an entrance."