CHAPTER 3- MY FIRST WITH A STRANGER
526 Words
The early morning light crept through the hotel curtains, pale and golden, casting soft shadows across the crumpled bed.
Victoria stirred slowly, her head pounding from the alcohol, her body wrapped in silk sheets and tangled limbs.
Her breath caught.
This wasn’t her room.
And this—this wasn’t Caleb.
She suddenly remembered that she broke up with him yesterday.
Her gaze dropped to the man beside her, still sound asleep. His chest rose and fell with quiet ease, his face turned slightly toward her, hair tousled across his forehead.
She couldn’t make out much of him in the dimness, but even in the haze of dawn and blurred memories, one thing was clear:
He was dangerously handsome.
A chiseled jaw. Smooth, sun-kissed skin. And the scent—rich, masculine, and intoxicating—lingered on the sheets and on her skin.
Her throat tightened.
What had she done?
Images from the night before came rushing back like broken waves—liquor burning down her throat, stumbling into the wrong room, lips crashing, hands exploring, soft moans swallowed by the dark.
She swallowed hard, sitting up quietly, ignoring the tight ache between her thighs that reminded her just how deeply the night had changed her.
It was her first.
She glanced at him again.
He looked peaceful. Powerful, even in his sleep.
She shook her head, forcing her trembling legs to move. Quietly, she slipped from the bed and searched for her clothes, her cheeks flaming as she dressed. She found the notepad beside the hotel phone and scribbled a note with shaky fingers.
"I’m sorry. It was a mistake. Please forget this ever happened."
She hesitated… then pulled a few folded notes from her purse and placed them beneath the message.
One last look—and she was gone.
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Ten Minutes Later
Kelvin stirred.
His head felt like it had been split open, his body heavy and sore from the strange haze he’d fallen into last night. He sat up slowly, blinking at the quiet room—and noticed immediately that he wasn’t alone.
Or rather, he hadn’t been.
The other side of the bed was still warm.
And on the nightstand, he found the note and the money.
A sharp laugh escaped him.
She paid him?
He picked up the bills and the crumpled paper, eyes narrowing at the handwriting. It was rushed, almost panicked.
“I’m sorry. It was a mistake…”
He read the words again, something twisting in his chest—not anger. Amusement, maybe. Intrigue. But definitely not regret.
He had been drugged last night—he was sure of it. One drink at the bar downstairs and the world had gone sideways. But somehow, instead of waking up in a nightmare, he had woken up next to a mystery.
No one had ever dared to badge into his room.
And one hell of a woman.
Beautiful. Wild. And clearly, running from something.
Kelvin leaned back into the pillows, note still in his hand, a smile slowly curving his lips.
She thought this was over.
She had no idea who he was.
And somehow… that only made her more unforgettable.
- Writer
