Chapter Fifty-Three: What Comes Next? Part II

She felt him behind her, the warmth of his skin pressed along her back, lips brushing her shoulder. His mouth found that spot just beneath her neck as he moved, and she gasped—sharp, breathless—as another wave crested through her, her body arching involuntarily into the sheets.

She clutched the blanket beneath her, knuckles tight, her breath catching on a groan as he followed just behind her—his own release drawn from the slow, **** rhythm they’d found together.

“God,” she breathed, her voice ragged and barely above a whisper. She collapsed onto the mattress, panting, her hair sticking to her damp skin, every nerve tingling and alive.

“That really ought to be illegal,” she muttered, turning just enough to shoot him a look over her shoulder—half dazed, half amused.

Daniel’s laugh was low and rough. Something about having spent an hour with his lips between her legs had made his voice raspy.

“What should? Me getting you back in bed when we swore it was a one time thing?”

Marissa scoffed, “Please, you act like you had a say in this. As if you wouldn’t come running with a crook of my finger.”

Daniel leaned back on his elbows, breath still a little uneven, hair disheveled in that maddeningly charming way of his. “I wouldn’t call it running,” he said, voice low, teasing. “More like… following a siren song.”

She gave him a look. “Wow. That was cheesy.”

“You’re still in bed with me.”

“Unfortunately,” she muttered, but the smile was creeping in.

They lay still for a beat. The sheets tangled around their legs. The air still thick with heat.

He kissed her shoulder again, lips lingering. He slipped out of her with a quiet groan, the moment softened by the way his hand found her waist, grounding them both.

“God,” he muttered, flopping back beside her. “We really should invest in condoms.”

“You think?”

She wanted to get up, needed to leave for the morning. Yet at the same time she felt comfortable here. Comfortable with him.

That scared her a bit.

When he reached for her again, she pulled away gently. “I should get cleaned up.”

She slid out of bed, and he watched her—how she moved, how familiar her body felt now in a way that unsettled him.

“Yeah,” he said, understanding. “Me too. I’ve got to check in with the office.”

“Ive got a meeting with my divorce lawyer. And I think I’m gonna try to find a realtor to look at my place.”

“Yeah,” he said, understanding. “Me too. I’ve got to check in with the office.”

“I’ve got a meeting with my divorce lawyer.”

The sink was running in the bathroom, water filling the space between them. He exhaled slowly, then pushed himself up from the bed and tugged his boxers back on.

He spotted her skirt where it had been discarded and picked it up, carrying it with him to the doorway. He held it out, quiet, wordless.

Inside, she’d already pulled her underwear back on.

That made him smile—small, private. Earlier she’d laughed about it, about how she’d worn good underwear this time: white lace, a push-up bra, cheeky panties. Like it mattered. Like it meant she’d chosen this moment instead of tumbling into it.

He handed her the skirt.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it.

“So what’s this mean for us?”

The question weighed a thousand pounds. The sink seemed to stop running. She turned looking back at him.

“Once is a mistake,” he said, almost to himself. Then, quieter but steadier, “Twice… I don’t think that we can call it a mistake.”

She studied him for a beat, unreadable. Then she reached out and shut off the faucet. The silence that followed was sharper than the noise had been.

“You’re really going to ask me that,” she said, dry, “while I’m standing in your bathroom?”

He lifted his hands, a half-smile tugging at his mouth. “You don’t have to answer. Just need to know if we’re gonna put a label on it.”

She watched him, and then looked away. “Look, what we did? It was fun. But I’m not sure I really know what it is. And I sure as hell aren’t ready for a relationship.”

He nodded slowly. “So that means…?”

“It means,” she said, choosing her words, “I’m a mess. And I don’t know what this is.” She paused, then added more quietly, “But I hope I’ve still got you.”

Daniel smiled at that, “You do,” he answered.