Chapter 04. One Night In His Bed

Anne-Marie’s P.O.V

He goes still.

“Don’t stop,” I utter softly, holding his surprised gaze. With a nod, I urge him to keep going. My first time might be meaningless, but I’ll die peacefully, knowing it was with a drop-dead stunner.

He doesn’t stop, but he becomes gentle, keeping my mouth occupied with kisses, his hands continuously brushing hair from my sweaty face and caressing me.

“Are you okay?” He checks in on me.

I nod. But a deep, distressed moan is forced out of me for the hundredth time.

“I’m sorry,”

I shake my head, gripping the sheet and giving him a weak smile while gasping for air. Soon, the world starts to tilt and float. My head spins. My eyes shut tight. It feels good and bad at the same time, yet so damn enjoyable, I’m almost levitating. He kisses my forehead.

And it’s over.

He withdraws and immediately pulls me close to his warm chest, using the sheet to cover us. My body trembles violently against his, our legs tangling. My breaths are quick and short. The spinning doesn’t stop. Everything feels out of body.

“How do you feel?” He asks through sharp, hasty breaths, his lips brushing my head.

I nod against his chest, snuggling even closer. He caresses and strokes my back, my arms, my head, keeping me grounded and calm by the second. 

Time passes, and we remain like that.

When the adrenaline wears off completely, I lift my eyes to his. With his hands on my butt, he drags me up till our eyes are level. My heart flutters like it’s never done before. I blink, wishing I could avert my gaze from his intense stare. But he’s trapped me in place. The reality that I’ve just had sex for the first time with the stranger staring into my soul is suffocating and invigorating at the same time.

“Just one night, hm?” he mutters, raising a brow while using his fingers to trace wicked lines across my spine and bare butt under the sheet.

I choke on air, dropping my eyes finally and letting the feel of what he’s doing take over. 

“I’m in New Jersey for the rest of the weekend… Could extend it for one more day if you wanna… if you ask me to, Princess…” his voice is silk in my ears. He snakes his hands around me, lifting me off the bed onto him.

A sigh of pleasure floats out of me.

He finds my lips and kisses me softly. But that’s not all he’s doing. My head processes nothing as we move very subtly. Moments later, he turns me on my back, getting above me. I open my eyes for a second to look at him as he hovers. His light brown hair falls, brushing my face.

“Only one night?” He questions again, obviously prepping me for a second round with the way his hands roam my body. “I’ll be here tomorrow night. And the next, if you say yes…”

Keeping my eyes closed, I hold his face as we share short kisses. Squirming, my legs move against the bed. But I shake my head in response.

“Why? Don’t wanna be with me again?”

He does something wicked to me. 

With a deep sound, my chest jerks upward, touching his. “This– this…” I start to say.

“My name is M—”

“No,” I press my hand on his lips and open my eyes. “Just shh…”

I’ve got real, serious life problems outside this heavenly suite. Stop trying to make me get attached and greedy. 

His lips curve into the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen before he nods. “You win, Princess… Just tonight.”

“Thank you,” 

He drops his weight on me, and off we go to Mars or Jupiter. The second time is sexy, reckless, and blissful. We lose ourselves irresponsibly. I lose myself, not stopping for a second to think of what this might cost me. He compliments my skin, my hair, my eyes, the feel of me.

“Freaking… Champion…” That’s what I moan when he takes me to heights I’ve never been before.

He chuckles, seeming to love the nickname. 

“You fu–ing hot Princess,” he teases me, slapping my skin and tickling me all over. “You like it when I do that, don’t you?”

I laugh from my heart, with all of me, pushing him away and getting right back into other acts when he catches me, yet spacing out for a second to imagine a reality where he’s mine and I have no care in the world.

But that’s only an illusion.

It’s been a lovely experience. A night foolishly and well spent. I’ll savor it while it lasts. Tomorrow, I’ll face reality and patch the pieces of my life back together for the millionth time. Hopefully, I don’t have to start from square one.

******

My eyes flicker open from sleep, landing on the Greek-history-inspired ceiling—gods and goddesses. I wonder if there’s a goddess of sex there. She smiled on me tonight. I drop my eyes to my chest. Champ’s arm is strewn across my breasts as he sleeps soundly.

Wow, Anne-Marie! You really did this.

Carefully, I peel his hand off and roll inches away from him. I pause to stare at him in his sleep. His features are elite—crafted to sway hearts and cause an eruption of butterflies in a woman’s stomach just like I’m experiencing. He looks young yet every bit a man. It makes me wonder if we’re in the same age group. I’m twenty-two.

I lean close and kiss him on the cheek. “Goodbye, Champ… Keep shining.”

With that, I roll out of bed and begin a hunt for my clothes. My head stirs and pounds with a split, reminding me of all the alcohol I consumed. My lacy blue panties hang on a lamp. I grab it and catch the digital alarm clock next to the lamp.

03:47 a.m.

Way to go, Anne-Marie. How irresponsible.

Beside the clock is a watch that steals my attention. Rolex. I pick it up to admire. I know this watch. Mr. Dawson used to always flaunt it in my face to show me he had the money I needed. It costs more than I earn in an entire year.

I bite my lip and look over my shoulder at him, watching as his body rises and falls slowly.

He’s rich, rich.

Must be nice.

I drop the watch exactly where I saw it, pick up my shorts, and dash to the bathroom. I’m out in five minutes, half-naked. Barefoot, I search for my nipple covers. They’re nowhere to be found. Sighing in frustration, I wear the sheer top, retrieve my purse, and head back to the bedroom for my shoes. 

Champ stirs in bed. I go still, holding my breath and praying he doesn’t awaken. He doesn’t. On the nightstand close to his side of the bed, his phone screen lights up for the fourth or fifth time as a call comes in. Not my cup of tea. I ignore it and turn around. 

On my way, I pick up his nameless varsity jacket and put it on. I’m stealing it. I’m sorry, but I can’t go anywhere in this top.

Almost at the door, the vibration in my purse stops me in my tracks. I pause to unzip it, then I take out my phone.

Caller ID: Bea-Babe

Beatrice.

The call drops before I can pick up. I quickly unlock my phone. My eyes widen at what I see.

47 missed calls. 5 messages.

It sends instant chills down my spine. My hands are trembling already as I tap on my phone, eyes scrolling through my call log.

Mom. Mary. Beatrice. Diana. 

Oh, God, please, please, please.

I swipe a finger on my screen, calling Beatrice back.

“Anne-Marie?” Her voice cracks as soon as she answers. My stomach sinks into a pit, dread washing over me like a cold. “Your sister… and mom…”

“What–what? What happened?” I rush for the door, bursting out barefoot, shoes and purse dangling in my grip. “Is Mary’s baby okay?”

“Her baby is fine. She gave birth to a baby girl. But…”

“But what?” My voice trembles as I turn and run like a madwoman before an elevator’s doors shut.

“She didn’t make it.”

Time stands still, knocking the air out of my lungs as my feet root to the ground.

“Your mom ran out of the hospital, and got… got… hit by a car…”

A ringing goes off in my head, paralyzing every muscle in my body. The world around me caves in and spins, crushing my soul.

Nothing registers, except the tears quickly blinding me and the voice in my head saying, “I told you so. You should have known and done better, Anne-Marie.”