I woke slowly, with the softness of morning slipping through the curtains and pooling across the bedroom floor.

For a moment I lay still, staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet settle around me.

And then the memories came back.

The scene from the evening before drifted through my mind. His dick, the sudden intensity between us, the reckless heat of it all. I shifted slightly beneath the covers, letting out a slow breath. A faint warmth crept across my chest at the thought of him, though the familiar pinch of guilt quickly chased it.

"It shouldn’t have happened. I don't trust that boy".

Yet the memory refused to fade...