Clara’s POV

I woke up alone, the sheets still tangled around my body. My body ached in places that made the last night impossible to dismiss as "desperation". Between my legs I was sore and sticky, the sensation from his penetration still fresh. The black shirt he had left for me lay folded on the chair. I put it on. The length barely covered the tops of my thighs.

I wandered around his house until I found him in the kitchen.

He stood at the counter already dressed — dark trousers, a black shirt with the sleeves rolled once, watch back on his wrist. He didn't look like the man...