0002: ONE NIGHT STAND 

JUNE’S POV 

Maybe it was the whiskey talking. Or maybe it was this raw, screaming need inside me I’d been ignoring for years. Honestly, I don't know what came over me. I caught his arm, my fingers digging in a little too tight.

"Do you... maybe want to just go to your place?" The words were out of my mouth before my brain could catch up. I felt my face flush.

His grin spread slowly, like he’d won a prize he’d been waiting for. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." My voice was firmer than I felt. If I stopped to think for one second about my age, my kids, my blown-apart marriage, I'd chicken out. I couldn't let that happen.

He didn't need to be told twice. He just took my hand and pulled me toward a beat-up black Wrangler across the street. Thank God the drive was only five minutes. We didn't talk, but his hand was on my thigh the whole time, his thumb tracing little circles on my skin. It was enough to keep my mind from spiraling into a full-blown panic attack.

The second we got to his apartment building, it was like a switch flipped. We practically fell out of the car and he was pulling me toward the stairs. We took them two at a time, both of us breathless and rushing. He fumbled with his keys for a minute, god, the anticipation was killing me before the lock finally clicked.

We stumbled into the dark apartment, and a nervous giggle escaped me. It was cut short when he pinned me against the door and kissed me.

The first thing I noticed was the taste of him, whiskey and something intoxicating. It was inviting and sweet. One of his hands cupped the side of my neck, holding me there as he deepened the kiss. My own hands flew to his hair, gripping those short, dark strands and tugging him closer.

The kiss felt endless. It was slow and deep, and my whole world narrowed down to this: the feel of his mouth, the scratch of his stubble, the solid wall of his chest against me. I felt dizzy, like I was getting drunk all over again just on him.

"Damn, you taste good," he whispered against my ear, and I shivered. My lips already felt swollen and sensitive.

After that, things got blurry and frantic. We were a mess of hands, pulling at clothes like we couldn't get them off fast enough. One minute my dress was on, the next it was a puddle on the floor. His boxers followed just as quick. I wasn't gentle, tugging at them like a woman possessed.

My whole body was on fire as he carried me over and laid me back on his bed. There was no time to feel self-conscious, to worry about my stretch marks or my soft mom-body next to his young, toned one. He was on top of me in an instant.

The scruff of his beard tickled as he trailed light, feathery kisses down my chest. It was such a surprise, so different, and it turned me on even more. Then his teeth grazed my skin—a sharp, little nibble that sent a jolt straight through me.

A soft moan escaped me. I couldn't help it. My body was just reacting, like it was remembering how to feel good after being asleep for a decade.

God, his touch was electric. Every kiss lit a new fire. My hands were everywhere, in his hair, down his back, tracing the hard lines of his muscles. When my fingers brushed against his erection, it was hard and ready, I tugged gently, a silent plea.

He let out this low growl that vibrated right through me. He kicked his pants the rest of the way off, and I almost smirked. Thank God I’d ditched my comfy mom-pants for something sexier tonight. Made things a lot easier.

He pulled the last bit of fabric over my head and then… he just stared. His eyes were dark, full of a raw hunger that made my heart hammer against my ribs.

"So beautiful," he breathed, his voice rough.

The way he looked at me… it made me believe him. He dipped his head, his mouth closing over my breast, his tongue doing these slow, deliberate circles around my hardened nipples. I gasped, my back arching off the bed. It was too much. It wasn't enough.

"Luca…" I moaned, my mind completely blank except for his name.

His mouth moved lower, down my stomach, his breath hot on my skin. My pulse was pounding everywhere. When his tongue finally found that most sensitive part of me, I thought I’d come apart right then.

The sensation was overwhelming. Waves of pleasure crashed over me with every stroke of his tongue against my clit. My hips lifted off the bed on their own, my hands fisting in the sheets. It was like nothing I could even remember. My whole world was just this—this feeling, this man, this moment.

I was trembling, right on the edge. I couldn't wait anymore as I came undone into his mouth and watched him drink it all up like it was an elixir of life. When I finally came down from my high, My hands flew to his shoulders, pulling him up, guiding him to where I needed him most, right inside of me.

"Please," I whispered, my voice shaky and desperate.

He chuckled softly, a low, teasing sound. "Impatient much?"

But he didn't make me wait. He quickly grab a condom from his drawer and rolled it on before he slid into me in one smooth, perfect motion, and I gasped. It was intense as his size was overwhelming. He moved slowly at first, letting me feel every inch of him, but then his pace quickened. Each thrust was deeper, more urgent, and driving me insane.

"So gorgeous," he growled in my ear, and it didn't feel like a line. It felt real.

It wasn't just sex. It felt like… reclaiming something. Like I was a woman again, not just a wife or a mom.

Our eyes locked, and whatever he saw in mine seemed to push him over the edge. His movements became frantic, his hands gripping me tighter, pulling me closer as we fell apart together.

I couldn't hold back. I cried out, my moans echoing in the quiet room as I shattered, gasping his name. Again. And again. My body felt like it had been rewired, responding to him with a hunger I'd forgotten I had.

By the time the sun started to turn the sky pale gold, I was lying tangled in his sheets, my body sore and completely spent. For the first time in years, I felt truly, utterly alive, and above all, I felt wanted.

But then reality started to creep back in. While he slept, his arm thrown possessively over my waist, I slipped out from under it. I gathered my clothes from the floor, the red dress that started this whole night, and got dressed in the quiet. I stood by the door for a second, just watching him sleep. He looked so young. So peaceful.

And then I left. Because whatever last night was, it couldn't happen again.