Rachel
I woke up alone.
The realization hit me before I even opened my eyes. The bed felt too cold. The space beside me was untouched. At some point during the night, I had reached out in my sleep, some unconscious hope that maybe he would come back. But my hand found only empty sheets.
Of course he didn’t come back. Why would he?
I lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling. I tried not to think about last night, but the memories came anyway. The heat of his skin. The way his hands gripped my waist. The intensity in his eyes when he looked at me. And worst of all — the pleasure. The overwhelming, consuming pleasure that tore through me again and again.
Stop it, I told myself.
But I couldn’t stop. The memories kept coming in vivid detail. The way I moaned his name. The way m
