Not the frantic blur of a trauma bay or the grinding exhaustion of back-to-back shifts—but the soft, disorienting haze that comes from choosing sensation over structure. The room seems quieter now, the house holding its breath around us, as if even the walls understand that something shameful is happening inside them.
A dirty shame that feels incredible.
I lean back against the edge of the bed, jacket already gone, like my mind. She’s sucking it out of me. Those soft lips curve around my cock, tight and steady. She moves with unhurried confidence, every motion deliberate, every pause intentional. Her suction drives me crazy—tight, hard, then loose again, like she’s drawing it out.
I let my eyes close briefly, allowing myself to feel instead of analyze. That alone is dangerous.
I’m aware, distantly, that this is my son’s old bedroom. That tomorrow I’ll remember that detail and wonder what it says about me. Tonight, it only adds to the sense of unreality, the feeling that I’ve stepped sideways out of my own life and into something that doesn’t belong to me—but wants me anyway.
I open my eyes again, grounding myself in the present.
She’s watching me, expression unreadable beneath the mask, like she’s waiting to see if I’ll pull back now that the moment has stretched this far. I don’t. The thought of stopping feels absurd. I haven’t come this far to reclaim control.
I’ve come to lose it.
I lace my fingers through her wavy dark hair, memorizing the silken texture tickling the back of my fingers the way her tongue lines my veins on the upstroke. Her hand caresses my balls, and I inhale through tight teeth. “Fuck.”
I’m not thinking about my mother’s disappointment or Amber’s disapproval or Jason’s inevitable mistakes anymore. I’m not thinking about my work or the hospital or the weight of expectations that follow me everywhere.
I’m thinking about how good her mouth feels on me.
The anonymity between us is a shelter rather than a barrier. No names. No histories. No consequences waiting patiently outside the door. Just two people agreeing—silently—to exist in this moment and nothing beyond it.
I forgot to lock the door.
I let out a quick breath, tension ratcheting in my shoulders in a way I didn’t realize it could. “The door is unlocked.”
She sort of smiles around my cock and keeps going. Harder. Faster.
“This is reckless?—”
“Mm-hmm.”
I’m aching for her next touch. Can’t stop now. Won’t stop. Instead, I thrust into her mouth. Her eyes darken with approval.
The world narrows again, sensation rising, thoughts thinning out until there’s nothing left but the present and the quiet, intoxicating relief of not caring what comes next.
Whatever happens after this night can wait. For now, I choose this.
The tension tightens. My spine, my balls, my cock, everything inside of me erupts in her mouth, and she doesn’t flinch. She drinks down every drop and sighs, like I am the best thing she has ever tasted.
Whoever she is, I’m hooked.
5
PERRY
We don’t separate right away.That’s how I know this isn’t over.
We’re stretched out across the bed in a lazy tangle of limbs, the sheets twisted and no longer pristine, my back pressed to his chest, his arm heavy and warm around my waist. My leg is draped over his, and it feels…natural. Comfortable. Like this is where we were always going to end up once we started.
Jason’s bed.
The thought flickers through my head, sharp and satisfying, but it doesn’t pull me out of the moment. If anything, it anchors me in it. This room was always about him—his needs, his entitlement, his belief that everything eventually bent his way.
Not tonight.
I still remember the first time he brought me here to meet no one at all. I had thought he brought me here to introduce me to his family. But as it turned out, he’d planned the visit for a weekend no one would be here. As he put it, “There’s no need for you to meet them. They’re no fun. You’d be bored.”
