MasukMorning light spilled across the kitchen table, warm on the wood and on the side of Samantha’s face as I pulled her down into my lap before she could take her own chair.
I wasn’t subtle about it. I wanted her close, close enough that I could feel the shift of her breathing against my chest while I reached around her for the coffee.The ceramic was hot under my fingers. Her hair still smelled like our shampoo from the shower we’d shared earlier, and I buried my nose against the side oThe plan was already moving by the time I left the conference room.I set up the virtual call with Miguel the same afternoon. The screen lit up with his office in Europe, papers stacked unevenly at the edge of the desk, the low industrial hum of a factory floor bleeding through the speakers. James sat beside me on our end, spine straight, hands resting flat on the table like he was bracing for the weight of the conversation. Samantha stayed quiet in the chair near the wall, phone face-down in her lap, eyes moving between the screen and me without interrupting.“Miguel,” I said once the connection stabilized. “This is James. He’s taking over as CEO of SOT. We’re here to lock in the collaboration between CPT and SOT.”Miguel’s gaze shifted to James first, assessing, then settled back on me. One of his brows lifted a fraction. I didn’t soften the opening.“I’m offering SOT as a third-party manufacturing company for CPT. The demand for medbots isn’t just Europe
Morning light spilled across the kitchen table, warm on the wood and on the side of Samantha’s face as I pulled her down into my lap before she could take her own chair.I wasn’t subtle about it. I wanted her close, close enough that I could feel the shift of her breathing against my chest while I reached around her for the coffee. The ceramic was hot under my fingers. Her hair still smelled like our shampoo from the shower we’d shared earlier, and I buried my nose against the side of her neck for a second just because I could.“You’re not even pretending anymore,” she said, half laughing, half resigned as she picked up a piece of toast.“I don’t want to pretend,” I answered, and meant it. The old habit of doing everything my own quiet way had loosened. I wanted her to see it. Between bites I told her the other thing I’d already decided.“I’m going back to work.”Her body went still in my lap.“No. You’re not ready to be moving around like that
The talk left us raw in the best way.Everything I’d kept locked down was finally out between us, and the air in the room felt different for it, thicker, warmer, charged. Samantha looked at me like she was seeing all of me at once and choosing it anyway. That alone made the heat pool low in my stomach.She moved first.Her mouth found mine, slow at first, then deeper, claiming instead of asking. I parted for her with a soft sound and felt her smile against my lips before she trailed down my jaw to my neck.“I’ve got you,” she murmured against my skin. “All of you.”Her hands worked at my clothes with steady purpose, peeling fabric away until the cool air touched bare skin and then her mouth followed. When the swell of my breasts was exposed she covered one with her mouth and sucked the nipple gently, then firmer, the wet heat of it making my back arch.“Sam-”“You’re so soft here,” she whispered, switching to the other side. “I’ve wanted this. Wanted
A full month in the hospital ended the way soft things end, quietly, with forms signed and a nurse’s last check of the monitors before they wheeled me out into afternoon light that felt too bright after so many white walls.Samantha drove. Sutton rose ahead of us the way it always had, the house that had held our shared days and the long stretch of distance between them. Stepping back through the door felt heavier than leaving the ward. I was home. With her. And I was finally ready to stop hiding.That night we ended up on the bed the way we used to, the lamp low, the city a distant murmur beyond the windows. Samantha sat between my knees while I worked a comb through her hair in slow passes. The strands were warm under my fingers. I watched them fall and settle, and the words I’d been carrying for months finally found an opening.“When the car went off,” I said quietly, “all I could think about was you. What I was supposed to say. How you’d take it.”
The days after I woke up moved in a soft, uneven rhythm.Morning light would slip across the private ward first, pale against the white sheets, and Samantha was almost always already there, sometimes half-asleep in the chair with her head tilted toward the bed, sometimes standing with a cup of warm water and a careful smile. The smell of antiseptic never fully left the room, but her perfume cut through it in small, familiar waves every time she leaned close.“Sit up a little for me,” she’d say, voice quiet, one arm already sliding behind my back.I’d let her do most of the work on purpose, not because I couldn’t try, but because the warmth of her hands felt better than effort. My body was still slow and heavy, muscles complaining at the smallest things, and I used that freely. When she reached for the comb, I tipped my head into her palm like a spoiled cat. When she brought the spoon closer during breakfast, I opened my mouth and waited instead of taking it mys
>>>Back to Mikayla's POVConsciousness came back in pieces, and at first there was only darkness.No edges. No light. Just a deep, weightless black that felt endless, like I’d been floating inside it for longer than I could measure. I didn’t know where my body ended. I didn’t know if I still had one. All I had was the slow sense of being again, thin and distant, pulling itself together in the dark.Then sound arrived.Not all at once. It drifted in the way a long dream thins at the edges before it breaks. Soft beeping. Steady. Measured. Voices somewhere close, layered and far at the same time. Then one voice cut through clearer than the rest.Samantha.I couldn’t make out every word, only the shape of them, the way her voice cracked when she held on too tight. Sobbing. My name, maybe. Something about waiting. Something about not leaving. The words floated and slipped, but the feeling of them stayed.My body still felt far away. Heavy. Th
The first light of dawn was just creeping in when I reached for the tent zipper, still wrapped around Claire’s warm body. One second of peace. That’s all we got. The zipper ripped open and rough hands yanked me out by my hair. I hit the dirt hard, pain exploding through my ribs. Claire screame
I walked back into campus after a week of hell, my body covered from head to toe. Long sleeves, high collar, and pants that hid the fading bruises my father had left on my back and arms. Every step still ached a little, but I kept my face calm. The second Claire saw me in the hallway, her eyes li
The heavy wooden doors of the Stonefield estate felt colder than usual as I pushed them open. My body was still buzzing from the afternoon with Claire, but the second I stepped into the living room, the high disappeared. My father, Silverstein Stonefield, sat in his massive leather chair lik
My back slammed against the cold metal door of the bathroom stall as I crushed my lips against Claire’s. The kiss was hungry, almost violent, like we’d been starving for each other all morning. Her strawberry lip gloss mixed with the faint taste of coffee on her tongue. My hand was alre







