Page 20 of No Strings Attached
“That was…”
“Incredible?” he offers, smug but somehow still soft.
I laugh, low and tired. “I was going to say intense.”
“Same thing.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You okay?”
I nod, eyes drifting shut. “Yeah. Better than okay.”
He exhales slowly, like he’s been holding his breath this whole time. His arms tighten around me, and for a second, I let myself believe this isn’t temporary.
That this doesn’t have to end when the sun comes up.
7
I’M A PATHETIC MAN
HENSON
The next morning, I wake up next to a sprawled Amira, her breathing steady, her body warm beside mine.
She’s still asleep, curled up in the sheets, hair a mess, lips slightly open like she’s dreaming something good. Or maybe nothing at all. Maybe I’m the only one still stuck in the moment we created last night.
What happened between us wasn’t just sex. It was something I haven’t felt in a long time, or ever. It knocked the wind out of me, in the best possible way.
I’m no stranger to one-night stands. Usually, they’re transactional. Tension, release, and silence by morning. The women I meet at parties or events know exactly what to expect. There are no questions or lingering touches, and definitely no over-sharing.
But last night wasn’t clean. That was messy, raw, and honest.Real.
I opened up to Amira in ways I never do. Told her things about my anxiety and my past that I haven’t even told people I’ve known for years.
I glance at her again.
Beautiful.
She looks unbothered, like last night didn’t shake her as much as it did me.
With a quiet exhale, I slip out of bed and head for the bathroom. I didn’t shower last night. Neither of us did. We fell asleep tangled up in each other, too exhausted to move.
The mirror catches my reflection—hair wild, jaw shadowed, bite marks on my collarbone that weren’t there yesterday.
Jesus.
The water steams up fast, and I step under the spray, letting it wash away the sweat, the heat, the questions trying to claw their way to the surface. I shouldn’t be thinking this hard about a woman I just met. Someone I’ll be saying goodbye to in a few hours.
Try telling that to my brain.
I lean into the tile, letting the night replay in flashes. How she moved under me. The sounds she made. The way she whispered my name like a prayer.
Her body…
A low groan escapes before I can stop it. I press my forehead against the wall, water beating down my back, though it doesn’t do much to cool me off. My body rememberseverythingtoo well.
I wrap my hand around my cock, jaw tight, eyes closing as I try to chase down the edge that’s been haunting me since I opened my eyes.
I stroke slowly at first. My hips twitch forward, steam curling around me as if it’s trying to hide how fucking pathetic this is.
This should be simple. Just something to take the tension out of my body so I can get on with the day. But it’s not. Every time I squeeze my fist tighter, I see Amira.
