I woke up slow, floating in that syrupy place between sleep and reality where everything feels soft and golden.
My body was deliciously heavy, my thighs aching and n*****s feeling tender. My p***y was swollen and pulsing with the vibration of last night’s beautiful ruin.
For one perfect drowsy second, I registered warmth under my cheek—Jax’s left arm still tucked beneath my head exactly where it had been when I passed out, his fingers loosely curled against my ribs. Then the other side of the bed hit me, cold and calm.
I blinked my eyes open. The sheets were tucked neatly around me like someone had smoothed them while I slept.
No Jax. No cute brunette.
Just the faint scent of juices and coconut lingering on the pillow beside me.
My stomach did a weird flip—half relief, half panic.
I
