A chance meeting 

 

Chapter 1 

Today had been a long day, and even though I usually didn’t go out for wine on a weekday, tonight called for an exception. I was exhausted—tired of work, tired of being single, tired in every possible way. 

When I got home, I took a long shower, letting the hot water wash away the day. Somewhere between shampooing my hair and rinsing off, I decided: Screw it. I’m going out. Just me, a glass of wine, and the city. I needed a change from my routine—work, home, repeat. I refused to be a woman permanently fused to her couch. 

Stepping out of the shower, I caught my reflection in the mirror. I took a moment, letting my eyes travel over my body. An hourglass figure, a voluptuous chest, a soft belly and thick, beautiful thighs. My soft 4C curls were full, moisturized, and thriving. Some might call me curvy others might call me fat. I just called myself a goddess. 

With a satisfied smirk, I reached for my green fitted dress—the one that hugged in all the right places—and paired it with knee-high brown leather boots. A dark blue jacket to match my purse, a quick check for my phone, wallet, and keys, and I was out the door. 

I didn’t have a destination in mind, just a feeling. The city would guide me. 

After walking around downtown Copenhagen for a while, I spotted it—a cozy little bar tucked away from the bustle. Warm light spilled onto the cobblestone street, inviting but not overwhelming. Not too empty, not too crowded. Perfect. 

As I stepped inside, the soft hum of conversation wrapped around me. I took my time, scanning the room before settling by a window.

At the bar, a man caught my eye—a handsome one. Tall, fair but sun-kissed, with wavy blonde hair and striking blue eyes. He glanced my way, and I met his gaze briefly, offering a polite smile before turning my attention to the bartender.  “One glass of sweet white wine, please.” 

The first sip was heavenly. I sighed, letting my shoulders relax, watching the world pass by outside. 

Ten minutes later, I felt it—a presence. Close. I glanced up. It was him. 

“Hey,” he said, smiling down at me. “Sorry to interrupt, but… is it okay if I sit here? You look like you could use some company.” 

I tilted my head, eyes flicking over him in amusement. “Are you sure it’s not you who needs the company?” 

He let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck like I’d caught him red-handed. “You’re probably right.” His voice had a hint of an accent. Australian. Interesting. 

I leaned back, pretending to consider. “Hmm. Well, I was enjoying my alone time, but…” I let my eyes linger on him for a beat longer than necessary. “…I guess I can make an exception.” 

He grinned. “Lucky me.” He took the seat across from me and extended a hand. “David.” 

After a deliberately slow pause, I took his hand. “Sophia.” 

“Nice to meet you, Sophia. I noticed you the second you walked in.” He leaned in slightly, his voice smooth. “Your energy is… magnetizing.” 

I arched a brow, fighting back a smirk. “That so?” 

He nodded, watching my reaction. “Very much so.” 

“Well,” I said, taking another sip of wine, “that’s a new one. I usually just get ‘nice dress’ or ‘you have a beautiful smile.’” 

His lips curled into a grin. “I’m surprised. But I don’t do basic compliments.” 

I laughed softly. “Good to know.” 

He settled in, studying me. “So, what made you come here tonight?” 

“I needed a change of scenery. Work’s been draining, and I was sick of staring at my own walls.” I shrugged. “Sometimes, you just need to be around people, even if you don’t talk to them.” 

“I get that,” he said, nodding. “Sometimes, solitude in a crowd is nice.” 

I tilted my head. “And what about you? What brings you here?”

“Same reason, actually.” His lips quirked. “Wanted a quiet drink. Maybe clear my head.”  

I smirked. “And yet, here you are. Not being very quiet.”  

He laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, turns out I’m not very good at sitting alone.” 

I toyed with the stem of my glass, suddenly feeling the weight of his gaze. “Well… at least you didn’t have to suffer alone tonight.” I tried to sound teasing, but the words came out quieter than I intended. 

David’s lips quirked. “Suffer?” 

I let out a small, awkward laugh and glanced at my drink. “You know what I mean.” 

His fingers drummed lightly against his glass as he studied me. “Yeah,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “I do.” 

The air between us shifted—still playful but charged with something else. 

I swallowed, clearing my throat. “So, do I get a thank you for my excellent company, or…?” 

His smile widened, but there was a new kind of warmth behind it. “I think I should be thanking whoever led me here tonight.” 

I blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. I didn’t know what to say to that. 

So, I just took another sip of my wine. 

We ended up talking for hours. I found myself intrigued. He wasn’t my usual type, but there was something about him—his presence, the easy confidence, the way he carried himself. 

At some point, I realized it was late. I stretched slightly, glancing at my phone. “I should go. Work tomorrow.” 

David leaned back in his seat, watching me carefully. “I know we just met, but… can I get your number? I’d love to see you again.” 

I exhaled, tilting my head. “You seem like a nice guy, David.” 

His smile faltered slightly, like he already knew what was coming. 

“But…” I continued, “I’m not really looking for anything right now.” I stood up, reaching for my coat. 

He didn’t protest, just nodded slowly. “Fair enough.” 

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “It was nice meeting you, though.” 

With that, I turned and walked out, feeling his gaze linger on me until I disappeared into the night. 

 

Chapter 2

Months flew by as I lived my life—working, relaxing, going out with my girls, and getting as much sleep as I could. Somewhere in between, I decided to cut my hair short. After months of experimenting with color and heat styling, my once-healthy curls had started to lose their shine. So, I did what needed to be done—I let go of the damaged ends, knowing my hair would flourish again. 

Even though I loved my short hair—how light and free it made me feel—I had wrapped it in one of my favorite headwraps today. The fabric, rich with deep blues, fiery reds, warm oranges, and regal purples, framed my face beautifully, making me feel like walking royalty. There was something about a headwrap that always elevated my energy, like an unspoken crown—bold and unapologetic. And if people were going to stare, I might as well give them something worth admiring. 

Today, I had taken the day off just for myself. A midweek break. No responsibilities, no emails, no one asking me for anything. I wanted to wander through Glyptoteket, one of my favorite museums in Copenhagen, and just breathe. It’s usually quiet on weekdays, the perfect place to admire beautiful statues and sip overpriced coffee. 

I strolled through the halls at a slow, deliberate pace, appreciating the silence. The marble figures stood frozen in time, each one telling its own story. My mind drifted as I admired a particularly intricate sculpture. 

And then— 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” 

A voice. Familiar. Smooth. 

I turned, scanning the room. 

And there he was. 

David. 

Tanned. This time with glasses and a neatly trimmed beard. He looked unfairly good standing there, smiling at me like we were old friends. 

I lifted a brow. “David.” 

His grin widened. “Sophia.” 

“What are you doing here?” I asked, genuinely surprised. 

He stepped closer, hands casually in his pockets. “Wanted to see more of Copenhagen this time around.” 

I studied him for a moment. He looked different—more put-together, relaxed. “Oh, is that so?” 

His smile twitched. “It is.” 

Silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t awkward. Just… charged. 

Then— 

“Can I join you?” 

I exhaled dramatically. “I was enjoying my own company…” I let my lips curve into a smirk. “But if you insist.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head as we started walking together. 

We wandered in comfortable silence until we stopped in front of a statue—a naked male figure, artistically chiseled to idealized perfection. 

“Careful,” David said, tilting his head. “Staring too long at naked statues can give you unrealistic expectations.” 

I turned to him slowly, lips twitching. “At how small it can get?” 

He threw his head back in laughter. “Damn. Walked right into that one.” 

I laughed, shaking my head. “Couldn’t let an opportunity like that pass.” 

His eyes sparkled. “You’re dangerous.” 

I smirked. “I know.” 

After a couple of hours of wandering, he turned to me. “Can I offer you a cup of coffee?” 

I pretended to think it over. “Alright. But only because the café here is actually really good.” 

He gestured dramatically. “Lead the way.” 

We found an empty table, settling opposite each other. 

“So,” he said, elbows on the table. “What’s your poison?” 

“A café latte with oat milk. And lots of sugar.” 

His lips twitched. “Oh no. You’re one of those.” 

I gasped theatrically. “Excuse me?” 

He leaned in slightly, smirking. “You know. The dairy-free, oat-milk-loving crowd.” 

I laughed. “Not by choice. Lactose hates me. And to top it off, I’m gluten intolerant too. It’s all very sexy, I know.” 

He shook his head, chuckling. “A woman of mystery… and dietary restrictions. How thrilling.” 

I snorted. “I know, right? So intriguing.” 

Still grinning, he stood up. “Alright, let me grab our drinks before you start listing more dietary tragedies.” 

I watched him walk away, letting my gaze linger a second too long. He moved with a kind of easy confidence. Even older than me, he had a youthful energy about him—active, fit. 

And I thought as I bit my lip, I bet he’s good in bed. 

The idea sent my thoughts down a dangerous path. My gaze drifted to his broad shoulders, his strong hands. 

Would he be able to keep up with me? 

I was still lost in that thought when he returned, placing my coffee in front of me. I startled slightly, caught in my own imagination. 

His brow lifted. “Everything okay?” 

I blinked, willing my expression to remain neutral. “Yeah, I was just thinking about… work.” 

He studied me for a moment, clearly not buying it. “Right.”

 

I took a slow sip of coffee, avoiding his knowing smirk. “So,” I said, changing the subject. “Do you live here in Copenhagen?” 

He shook his head. “No. I live in Australia.” 

I raised a brow. “Oh? I wasn’t expecting that, but… it makes sense.” I tilted my head, teasing. “You do have that perpetually-at-the-beach look.” 

He let out a hearty laugh. “Well, you’re not wrong. I love the ocean. Surfing, especially.” 

“I knew it.” I pointed at him. “You’re only missing the long, sun-bleached surfer hair.” 

He shook his head, grinning. “Not happening.” 

I sipped my coffee, watching him over the rim. “Good. I like your hair the way it is.” 

His gaze flickered, amusement in his expression. “Noted.” 

We finished our drinks, the air between us comfortable but charged. 

“It was nice seeing you again,” I said, standing. 

David got up fast. “Look, I’d really like to see you again.” He hesitated, then added, “Can I get your number?” 

I studied him, dragging out the silence just to make him squirm a little. Then, with a sigh, I held out my hand. “Give me your phone.” 

Surprised, he fumbled for it. I took it, quickly typing in my number before handing it back. 

As he looked down at the screen, I leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“Call me,” I murmured, flashing him a smile before turning and walking away. 

I could feel his eyes on me the whole way out. 

 

Chapter 3 

A week later, I’m standing in front of my mirror, adjusting my red dress—the one that hugs me in all the right places. 

My 4C hair is in long, dark-purple braids, falling over my shoulders. I run my hands over them, admiring the deep colour. It contrasts beautifully against my skin. 

I look good. 

I slip on my dark blue boots, a mix of leather and suede, then take a final look in the mirror. There’s a flutter in my chest—not nerves, exactly, but anticipation. 

I tell myself it’s just a date. Nothing serious. 

But the way he looked at me last time? The way the air between us thickened? 

I grab my coat and purse and head out before I can overthink it. 

The café is warm, cozy, the kind of place where time moves slower. As soon as I step inside, I scan the room. 

And then—I see him. 

David is already here, sitting at the same table where we first talked. He keeps looking toward the door, waiting for me. 

The second his eyes find mine he stands. 

His gaze drinks me in. 

I don’t rush to him. I let him look. As I am walking over to him slowly, I can feel the heat in my stomach and a little bit of nervousness.  

As I walk up, his expression shifts into something deeper, something unreadable. His lips twitch like he wants to say something but doesn’t. 

When I reach him, I lean in for a hug. He holds me tighter than I expected, his arms strong around me, the scent of his cologne warm and woodsy. He presses a slow kiss to my cheek, just a second too long for it to be casual.  

"You smell good," he whispers in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. 

Then, he pulls out the chair beside him. 

“I need you close to me tonight.” 

His voice is low, rougher than usual. 

I place a hand on his arm, feeling the warmth beneath his sleeve. “Okay,” I murmur. “I’ll sit next to you.” 

As I settle into my seat, his leg brushes against mine. 

I should shift away. 

I don’t. 

“What would you like to drink?” he asks, his voice smooth. 

I meet his gaze. “A glass of red wine.” 

He nods and gets up without hesitation. As I watch him at the bar, I let myself breathe. 

The energy between us is different tonight. More intense. 

When he returns, he hands me the glass before sliding back into his seat with a glass of red for himself—closer this time. 

“Thank you.” My fingers graze his as I take the glass. 

His lips curl. “Anything for you.” 

I smirk, shaking my head. “Charmer.” 

We talk. We laugh. And with each passing minute, the pull between us grows stronger. 

Each glance lingers longer. 

Each touch feels like an accident—but isn’t. 

And then—I realize he’s stopped talking. 

I blink. He’s just… watching me. 

The café noise fades. My breath slows. 

He doesn’t move. 

Neither do I. 

His fingers brush my knee. Barely a touch. 

A question. 

An invitation. 

My heart pounds, my skin humming with heat. Somehow, the wine gives me courage. I don’t even think—I just grab his shirt and pull him in. 

The kiss starts slow, hesitant, like we’re testing the waters. 

But then— 

David makes a sound deep in his throat, and suddenly his hands are on my waist, pulling me in like he’s been waiting for this. His lips move over mine, teasing at first, then deeper, more urgent. 

His tongue slides against mine, his fingers pressing into my waist. Heat curls low in my stomach. 

I don’t even care that we’re in public. 

I kiss him back like I don’t plan on stopping. 

When we finally break apart, my chest is rising and falling, breathless. 

His forehead rests against mine. His fingers stay curled around my waist. 

“I wanted to do that since the first time I saw you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something dangerous. 

I lick my lips, watching the way his eyes darken. 

Fire. 

It’s all I see in his gaze. 

I don’t think. I just pull him back in again. 

This time, the kiss is slower. 

Softer. 

Like we’re both memorizing the moment. 

Damn, he’s a good kisser. 

A voice clears behind us. 

I blink, suddenly remembering where we are. The café. The people. The fact that we’re definitely not alone. 

David exhales a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair as he leans back slightly. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, voice still low, rough. 

I nod, biting back a grin as I reach for my coat. 

As we step outside, the crisp air hits my skin, grounding me. 

But nothing—not even the cold—can cool the heat still lingering between us. 

He glances down at me, eyes glinting under the streetlights. 

“So… where to next?”  

I meet his gaze my pulse still unsteady.  

Something tells me the night is far from over. 

 

Chapter 4 

We start walking slowly through the streets of the inner city. The silence stretches between us, but it isn’t uncomfortable. Just… charged. 

We pass storefronts, the glow from the displays spilling onto the sidewalk. I stop in front of one, pretending to admire the clothes—really, I just need a second to gather my thoughts. 

Shit. Am I really doing this? 

I mean, he’s practically a stranger. A good-looking stranger, but still. 

And what if he can’t keep up with me? He is older than me. 

Fuuuuuck. What am I doing? 

I take a slow, deep breath, trying to calm the chaos in my head. 

I can feel his eyes on me, steady and unhurried. But his presence isn’t overwhelming—it’s calm, quiet, waiting. 

Like he’s letting me take the lead. 

 

His voice finally breaks the silence. “So… that happened.” 

I turn to him. His soft smile melts me just a little. 

A small smile tugs at my lips in return. “Yes, it did.” My voice is quieter than I expect. “I actually wasn’t expecting that.” 

He tilts his head. “What were you expecting?” 

I let out a small breath, shaking my head. “I don’t know. Maybe some nice conversation, a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. But… not this.” I motion between us. This… whatever this is. 

His eyes flicker with something unreadable. He nods slowly, considering. “You’re right.” His voice is soft but sure. “It’s definitely something else.” He steps closer—just slightly, just enough for my pulse to jump. “But I like it. And I’d like to explore it.” 

My breath catches as the space between us disappears. 

His eyes search mine. 

“Would you like to explore this?” 

He’s close now. So close. 

I nod slowly, words failing me. 

His lips part slightly, his gaze darkening as he takes me in. 

And then— 

He closes the distance. 

One hand cradles my cheek, his other arm tightens around my waist, pulling me in. His

mouth claims mine—slow at first, then deeper, hotter, like he’s making up for lost time. 

I grip his coat, needing something solid to hold onto. 

The kiss goes on for what feels like forever. The world around us blurs—people walking by, the distant hum of the city—all of it fades into the background. 

All I feel is him. 

I let out a soft moan into his mouth, heat curling low in my belly. 

Slowly, he pulls back. 

His forehead brushes mine, his breath warm against my lips. 

And then he says it. 

“My place or yours?” 

Shiiiiiiiiiit. 

This is really happening. 

My heart pounds in my chest. 

I should think about this. I should pause. I should— 

“Yours,” I whisper. 

I’m not ready to let him into my world yet. 

Not yet. 

His eyes flash with something dark and knowing. 

He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together, and starts leading me toward his hotel. 

Every few steps, he stops—just to kiss me. 

Slow. Deep. 

Like he can’t get enough. 

Like he doesn’t want to let me go. 

And honestly? 

I don’t want him to.  

Chapter 5

We arrive at the hotel, and as I stand in front of it, I take in just how beautiful—and expensive—it looks.

I inhale deeply before stepping inside. As we enter, I feel his hand settle on my lower back. Protective. Possessive. Like I already belong to him.

As we walk through the grand lobby, I notice a few people glance at us. Some pause. One or two whisper between themselves.

I don’t think much of it. Maybe it’s just because he’s ridiculously good-looking.

We step into the elevator, and the tension inside thickens instantly.

David watches me, eyes dark, his body angled toward mine. He leans in slightly, his lips curving like he wants to say something.

Or kiss me.

Just as he moves closer—

The elevator dings.

The doors slide open.

A man steps inside.

David grins, shaking his head as he leans back against the wall, his eyes still on me.

I exhale slowly, heart pounding. The anticipation is suffocating.

I sneak a glance at him from the corner of my eye. My mind has completely shut down.

My body is already humming in response to him, and we haven’t even touched since we left the café.

The elevator pings again.

His floor.

David steps out first, searching for his key card in the pocket of his coat.

As we reach his door, he pushes it open, flicking on the lights before turning to me.

“Ladies first.”

I hesitate for half a second, then step inside.

The moment I do, I freeze.

This isn’t just a hotel room. It’s a suite. No—a full-on, luxurious apartment.

There’s a living area with a couch, a massive floor-to-ceiling window, a king-sized bed, and a bathroom that looks big enough to get lost in.

Okay. That… I was not expecting.

I turn to him, narrowing my eyes. “Are you secretly a millionaire or something?”

He just smiles, that maddening, unreadable smile.

“Why don’t you take off your coat?” His voice is smooth, almost teasing.

He shrugs off his own coat, and without even thinking, I follow suit.

He takes it from my hands, hanging it neatly in the wardrobe.

For a moment, we just stand there, facing each other.'

Then—he moves.

Closes the space between us.

His hands slide around my waist, pulling me in, and then—his lips claim mine.

I melt into the kiss instantly, my arms wrapping around him.

His lips are slow, deliberate, devouring me like he has all the time in the world.

My body presses into his as he walks me back toward the bedroom.

We move blindly, our hands pulling at layers of fabric, stripping each other down one piece at a time.

Clothes hit the floor.

Jackets. Sweaters. My dress. His shirt.

By the time we reach the bed, we’re down to just our underwear.

David lifts me effortlessly, like I weigh nothing, and lays me down onto the soft sheets.

He hovers over me, his gaze burning into mine. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers.

His hands glide over my skin, taking his time, his eyes memorizing every inch of me.

He slowly slides one strap of my bra down, kissing my shoulder.

Then the other.

The bra falls away, and his lips trail lower.

He cups my breasts, his touch reverent.

His mouth closes over my nipple, sucking softly.

A gasp escapes me.

“Please,” I whisper, “bite them.”

I tangle my fingers into his hair, needing more.

He stills for a moment, his breath warm against my skin. Then—he obeys.

His teeth graze over me, just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through my body.

I moan at the sensation.

His lips move to my other breast, giving it the same attention.

My breath comes in shallow pants.

Shit.

I am completely lost in the feeling.

His body presses into mine, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me. His skin is warm, soft, but firm.

His lips move lower.

Lower.

Each kiss feels like a promise.

Then—he stops.

His lips brush mine again, deep, slow, teasing.

Then he removes my panties.

His hands part my thighs.

His breath ghosts over my skin.

Then—

His tongue moves against me, and I arch off the bed with a moan.

He is good.

Like too good.

He stops for a second, just enough to murmur—

“My God, you taste good.”

I blush. Hard. But thank God he can’t see my face right now.

Before I can even recover, his fingers slide inside me, curling just right—I moan louder.

“Please take me,” I gasp.

I need more.

All of him.

He teases me for a moment longer, then pulls away.

I open my eyes just in time to watch him stand.

He pushes down his boxers.

Then—he rolls on a condom.

My gaze rakes over him, and my breath catches.

His strong build, his toned chest, his broad shoulders…

And below that—

Oh.

Ohhh.

Thank you, God.

He kneels onto the bed, his body shadowing mine, and positions himself between my legs.

His hand slides over my thigh, then to my hip, holding me steady.

Slowly—achingly slow—he enters me.

I gasp, gripping his arms, feeling every inch of him stretch and fill me.

His forehead drops against mine.

He groans softly, his breath warm against my lips.

Then, after a moment—he moves.

Deep. Slow.

Savoring me.

He kisses me again—my lips, my neck—his touch worshiping every inch of my skin.

I hold onto him tighter, feeling him. Feeling everything.

"You feel so good," he whispers in my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

His pace is slow at first, measured, teasing—but then he starts moving faster.

I moan, completely lost in the sensation.

One of his hands rests beside my face, steadying himself, while the other slides over my thigh, gripping me like I belong to him.

Fuuuuck. This feels so good.

My hands roam over his skin, memorizing him.

The hard planes of his chest. The flex of his back with each thrust. The way his muscles tense as he moves inside me.

"Harder," I moan.

His breath hitches, his grip tightening—and then he gives me what I want.

Harder.

Deeper.

I gasp, arching into him.

"Yes," I moan.

Then—

"Look at me."

His voice is low, commanding.

The sound alone nearly undoes me.

I force my eyes open, locking onto his, and—shit.

The way he’s watching me—completely wrecked, completely in control—I feel myself unraveling, spiraling closer.

I moan, but I hold back just a little.

I don’t want to be too loud.

His grip on my thigh tightens.

"Let me hear you, Sophia," he murmurs. "Let me hear that beautiful voice of yours."

Fuuuuuuuuuck.

The words send me straight to the edge.

He grunts, thrusting harder now.

He lifts my leg higher, changing the angle—

And that’s it.

The tension snaps.

"David!" I cry out, clawing at his back.

"Mmm," he groans, his voice thick, ragged.

"Say it again."

"David!"

His rhythm falters—he’s losing control now, too.

His forehead presses against mine, his breath ragged.

"Sophia," he mumbles, voice breaking—

And then, he falls apart with me.

Our breathing is ragged afterward.

David is still on top of me, his weight grounding me. I cup his face with both hands, pulling him down into a kiss.

Slow. Lingering. Savouring his taste.

He shudders slightly before finally relaxing completely, his body sinking against mine.

He rests there, pressing soft, lazy kisses to my face—my cheek, my nose, the corner of my mouth.

For a while, we just lay there. No rush. No words. Just the sound of our breathing slowly returning to normal.

Then, after a moment, he shifts, rolling onto his back beside me.

I don’t like the sudden absence of his body on mine. I already miss the warmth of him inside me.

When I turn my head to look at him, he’s smiling.

“That was…” he exhales, shaking his head like he’s trying to find the right words. “…unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.”

I smile back, still catching my breath. “Me too. That was the first time first-time-sex was this good.”

I stretch slightly, still feeling the aftershocks.

His fingers brush my arm, then he leans in to kiss me—one more, deep, slow kiss that sends another ripple of warmth through me.

Then he pulls back. “I’m just going to hop in the shower. Unless you want to go first?”

I shake my head, exhaling. “You go. I’ll just relax a little.”

He narrows his eyes slightly, studying me. “You’re not going to disappear on me while I’m in there, are you?”

My eyes widen slightly. Shit. I wasn’t actually going to sneak out, but the thought had crossed my mind.

“No, of course not,” I say quickly.

His expression softens, like he knows exactly what I was thinking but chooses not to push it.

He slides out of bed, and I catch a very nice glimpse of his surprisingly tight ass before he disappears into the bathroom.

I sigh, sinking back against the pillows.

I had thought about leaving. Not because I wanted to, but because… this was new. Intense. A little scary.

But… I actually needed to shower, too.

I grab my phone, scrolling through Spotify before pressing play on one of my favorite playlists.

A mix of slow Angolan kizomba, bachata, and sensual R&B flows softly into the room.

The sound calms me.

Ten minutes later, I hear the shower shut off.

A few seconds later, he steps back into the room, a towel slung low on his hips, another smaller one in his hand, rubbing his damp hair.

Fuck.

He looks even better with wet hair.

I slip out from under the covers, feeling his gaze follow me.

I don’t look back.

But I feel him watching.

I step into the bathroom, closing the door behind me before turning on the water.

I let it rush over me, washing away the lingering sweat, the heat, the scent of him still on my skin.

When I step back into the room, wrapped in a fresh towel, he’s already under the covers.

He smiles when he sees me.

“This was nice,” I say, matching his smile as I sit on the edge of the bed.

Then, I hesitate. “But… I usually use a washcloth when I shower. That’s the only way I really feel clean.”

I pause, feeling almost guilty for saying it, not wanting to sound ungrateful. “This was nice, though.”

He gives me a look.

Like I just said something completely foreign.

“A washcloth?” His face is full of pure confusion.

I blink. “Yeah. I’m Angolan. That’s the only way I learned how to shower. How are you gonna wash the dirt off your body? Your hands aren’t enough.”

He stares at me, then laughs softly, shaking his head.

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

My breath catches.

Next time?

I glance at him, my pulse skipping slightly. I smirk a little, tilting my head.

“I didn’t know there was going to be a next time.”

He exhales a soft chuckle, then meets my gaze with absolute certainty.

“Do you really think I’m letting you go after this?”

He pauses, lips twitching slightly. “I mean—I’m letting you go home, obviously. I’m not a psycho.”

I laugh at his quick correction.

He runs a hand through his damp hair, then adds, “…But I’m not done with you yet.”

A slow heat builds in my chest.

I like that answer.

“A man with a plan,” I tease, biting my lip.

He smirks, then lifts the covers.

“Come here.”

I don’t hesitate.

I slide into bed, pressing against him.

His arm wraps around me, pulling me against his chest.

I lay my head against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

And as his fingers trace slow, lazy circles on my back…

I close my eyes, feeling something I haven’t felt in a long time.

Safe.

Wanted.

Maybe even a little bit dangerous.

And I have a feeling…

This isn’t over.

The end. 

For now.