I woke up gasping softly, my throat dry and aching. The clock glowed 3:07 AM in the darkness of Smith’s bedroom. My body felt restless, skin warm under the sheets, heart already picking up that familiar frantic rhythm. I couldn’t stay in bed any longer. I needed water… and maybe a moment away from the intoxicating scent of him that clung to everything.
I unlocked the door quietly and slipped out, wearing nothing but his oversized t-shirt. The soft fabric brushed against my bare thighs with every step, reminding me constantly that I was in his space, wrapped in his clothes. The living room was dimly lit by a single lamp. There he was—Smith—sleeping like a baby on the couch. One muscular arm draped over his eyes, the thin blanket pooled low around his hips, revealing the sculpted lines of h
