Or maybe it was—the part of me I kept buried under politeness and caution. The one that just wanted to feelsomething real, even if it was temporary. Even if it didn’t last past sunrise.
I should have called it off.
Should have curled up in bed with a face mask and my therapist’s voice in my head, reminding me to choose better.
But I didn’t want better.
Not tonight.
I wanted to feel wanted.
Desperate, hands-in-my-hair, ruin-me-and-leave-me-shaking kind of wanted.
I’d kicked off my heels and removed my jewelry but left the dress on. The silk clung cool and smooth against skin that still pulsed with heat.
I could feel where he’d touched me—phantom impressions of his hands at my waist, firm and possessive, like he was staking a quiet claim.
And his mouth... God, his mouth.
The way his lips had moved over mine—deliberate, savoring, like he was tasting something he'd waited for—had unraveled me in seconds.
His tongue had stroked languidly into my mouth, not demanding, just… knowing.
Tasting.
Tempting.
That single kiss had obliterated every other in my memory, leaving behind nothing but ash and comparison. All those others felt pale now, forgettable. This one had ruined me for all of them.
When the knock came, I froze, suddenly unsure.
But my body moved before my mind could catch up, opening the door in one swift motion.
He stood there, tall and composed, silver hair gleaming under the hallway lights like liquid metal.
His dark blue eyes locked onto mine with that same searing intensity I’d felt at the bar—a slow, deliberate sweep that sent a jolt straight through me.
It wasn’t just a look; it was a claim, silent and scorching, and it left my skin humming.
Heat bloomed low in my stomach as his gaze lingered, unblinking. I felt seen—completely, unnervingly seen—and stripped bare in a way that had nothing to do with my dress.
A subtle scent drifted from him—something clean and masculine with a hint of spice—and it wrapped around me like a memory I hadn’t made yet.
“I wasn't sure you'd come," I said, hating the breathless quality of my voice.
"I wasn't sure you'd still want me to."
I stepped back, allowing him to enter.
As the door closed, the air in the room seemed to change—growing heavier, charged with potential and anticipation.
"I almost talked myself out of this," I admitted.
"Why didn't you?"
I moved closer, drawn in by an invisible pull to this man.
"Because for once in my life, I want to do something reckless. Something that's just for me."
