I woke up to warmth—sunlight slipping through half-drawn curtains and heat radiating off the body next to me. For a second, I didn't move. Just laid there, tangled in expensive sheets that smelled like sex and danger.
Then I felt it.
His gaze.
I cracked one eye open.
Dominic. Propped up on one elbow, shirtless, with that messy, post-fuck hair and a smug little smirk resting easy on his stupidly handsome face.
"Good morning, angel," he said, voice like gravel and velvet.
God help me, that voice could talk me out of panties and principles alike.
"Morning," I croaked, throat dry, brain fuzzed.
And then it hit me—hard.
Last night.
The way his mouth had dragged down my body like he had all the time in the world. The sounds I made. The way I begged. The way he ruined me.
My eyes snapped open fully now. "What the actual hell?" I blurted, sitting up too fast, the sheet falling off me in a panic.
Dominic didn't flinch. Just watched me, amused, eyes dragging down the line of my bare back like he had every right to.
"Whoa. Easy there, sweetheart." He reached out, fingers brushing my thigh like it was nothing. "You weren't drunk last night, in case you're about to pretend this was some mistake."
I shot him a glare and yanked the sheet up over my chest, as if modesty was even a thing between us anymore.
"I shouldn't be here," I muttered, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. My dress lay crumpled across the floor like it had been torn off me. Probably because it was.
"You shouldn't," he agreed smoothly. "But you are. And you didn't exactly protest when you were riding my face last night."
"Jesus Christ, Dominic," I hissed, heat flushing up my neck as I pulled my dress on in record time.
"What?" he said, completely unfazed, folding his arms behind his head like he hadn't just turned me inside out twelve hours ago. "I'm just saying... you looked real fucking holy doing it."
I choked on my own breath, tugging the zipper up with shaky hands.
"I swear to God, you're the devil."
He grinned. "Then you must be into demons, baby. You were moaning like a sinner."
I didn't reply. Couldn't. My body was still betraying me—still buzzing from him, even as I tried to pretend this wasn't a nuclear-level mistake.
I stomped my heels back on, trying to ignore the way his eyes tracked every movement like a predator.
"Lexi," he called softly just as my hand touched the doorknob.
I paused. Just a second. Just long enough to hear it.
"I'll miss you, baby."
I didn't look back.
Because I knew if I did—I'd stay.
I walked into the house, the cool air hitting my skin like a reality check. But it didn't do much to erase the memory of Dominic—his scent still clung to me, musky and addictive. My thighs ached in the best way, and my lips were still swollen from all the ways he kissed me. God, it was like the man had mapped every inch of my body and then claimed it.
I swallowed, blinking the thoughts away as the familiar aroma of coffee wrapped around me like a warm hug. My mom was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove with that soft hum she always did when she was in a good mood. The homey sound should've calmed me, grounded me—but I still felt like I was floating. Or spinning. Or maybe falling, slowly and stupidly.
She turned around the second I stepped in, her gaze scanning me top to bottom. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and then she smirked. Uh-oh.
"Well, well, well," she said, crossing her arms as her hip leaned against the counter. "Someone had themselves a good night."
I paused mid-step, caught like a deer in headlights. Heat flushed up my neck instantly.
"Morning, Mom," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral, breezing past her like I wasn't still sore in places I shouldn't be.
Her smile deepened. "Where were you all night?"
I grabbed a mug and poured myself coffee, praying she wouldn't notice the tremble in my hands. "With a friend."
"A friend?" she echoed, one brow arching. "Funny. Friends usually don't make you walk like you just rode a mechanical bull at a bachelorette party."
I nearly choked on my sip. "Mom," I warned, eyes wide as I turned to face her.
"What?" She grinned like the devil herself. "I gave birth, sweetheart. I know what sex-hair and sex-walk look like."
"I don't have a boyfriend," I said quickly. "And nothing happened."
She just gave me that look—the one that said I've been your mother for too long for you to lie to me successfully.
"Mmhmm," she murmured, her tone thick with disbelief. "Then you might want to take a shower before Max starts asking why Mommy smells like a grown-up sleepover."
I blinked. "Wait, what?"
She leaned in, voice low and way too gleeful. "You smell like sex, Lexi."
"Mom!" I gasped, almost dropping my mug.
She chuckled and turned back to the stove, completely unfazed. "I'm just saying. If you're gonna sneak out of someone's bed at sunrise, at least use a damn body mist."
I groaned, burying my face in my hands just as Max's tiny voice called from the hallway.
"Good morning, Mommy!"
I turned, grateful for the distraction, and saw him barreling toward me with bed hair and sleepy eyes. My heart softened instantly.
"Hey, baby," I said, crouching down to scoop him into a hug. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Yup! Grandma and I watched cartoons and had popcorn!"
"That sounds like the best night ever." I kissed the top of his head, burying my guilt deeper. I didn't want to think about the fact that while he was cuddling with his grandma, I was getting flipped over by the man I swore I hated.
"Can I have some milk?" he asked, looking up at me with his sweet little face.
"Of course, honey." I looked to my mom, who was already grabbing the cup.
She handed it to him with a warm smile. "Here you go, baby."
"Thanks, Grandma!"
Once he was settled at the table, sipping milk and munching on toast, she leaned close again, her voice barely above a whisper.
"So," she said, lips twitching, "this friend... does he have a name? Or do we call him Mr. Can't-Keep-His-Hands-Off-You?"
I groaned. "Please stop."
Her eyes gleamed. "Fine. I'll wait until you're less sore and more honest."
I shook my head and practically bolted from the kitchen, leaving her laugh trailing behind me. Upstairs, I stripped out of the crumpled dress and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the night—but not the memory.
Because Dominic—he wasn't a memory. Not really. He was a mark on my skin, a scent I couldn't scrub off, a voice still echoing in my damn head.
"I'll miss you, baby."
I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead against the tiles.
Damn it.
I was already in trouble.
By the time I was showered, dressed, and had Max dropped off at school, I'd managed to glue myself back together. Lip gloss, clean clothes, coffee in hand. I looked like Lexi again.
But on the inside? My head was still in Dominic's bed.
To Be Continued...