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“Sweet dreams, Mary.” He presses a feather-light kiss to the top of my spine.

I want to tell him he’s the sweetest dream I’ve ever had, but sleep drags me back under before I can form the words.

My senses come alive one by one as I wake. The soft mattress beneath me, the smooth sheets tangled around my legs, the faint ache between my thighs, his stubble against my skin, the feeling of pure contentment, and his warmth against my back.

One arm is slung over my waist, breath stirring the hair at the nape of my neck. My heart stutters. We’re still together, and last night wasn’t just another fantasy. I stayed, and so did he.

His lips brush the curve of my shoulder. “Morning.”

Did we... did we just take our relationship to another level?

“Good morning.” I roll over to face him, propping myself up on one elbow.

He watches me through half-lidded eyes, a smile tugging at his mouth. In the daylight, I can see him clearly for the first time. Dark, tousled hair and blue eyes that glint with amusement, the sharp line of his jaw shadowed by stubble. A face both hard and sensual.

He’s not at all what I expected. He’s better.

“See something you like?”

I duck my head. “Yes.”

“Good.” He gives me a slow and deep and toe-curlingly thorough kiss. “Because you’re not getting rid—”

I stir awake.

Chapter 3

Mary

I reach to the other side of the bed, my fingertips gliding over the cold sheets. The sun highlights the empty space. Mocking me.

Shit.

I sit up, the sheets pooling around my waist. Blinking, I take in the unfamiliar room. White walls and sleek black furniture. Something’s different.

The blindfold. It’s gone. He took it off.

I scan the room, searching for any sign of Chris. His clothes, his watch, anything. But there’s nothing.

My gaze snaps to the dresser. A white folded piece of paper rests atop the polished wood, the blindfold nestled beside it.

I wrap the sheet around me and scoot to the edge of the bed. A dull ache between my legs makes me wince, reminding me of last night’s activities. Of his hands on me. His mouth.

My heart races as I stumble over, my legs still shaky. I snatch up the note, my eyes devouring the words. But there’s only one line, scrawled in hurried handwriting.

I’m sorry, C.

What? Sorry? Sorry for what? For leaving? For making me feel things I’ve never felt before? For fucking me senseless and then disappearing like a ghost?

I read the words again and again, but they don’t change.

No. That’s… That’s fucking it? After everything, he just… leaves?

Is that all? No explanation?

The paper is blank save for those two words and one letter.

It slips from my fingers, drifting to the floor as I stand motionless. Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them back. How could he do this? We’d spent months, no years, getting to know each other, sharing everything with each other. I thought we had something, a connection. But apparently, it was all just a game to him. A one-night-stand with the naive little rich girl.

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