You hit up a downtown club for a drink, and that’s where you met him—a blond guy with blue eyes and pale skin, charming from the very first word. One drink turned into a conversation, and before long, he was driving you back to his place.

That night was… unforgettable. Every touch felt like being pulled higher into the clouds, gentle when you needed comfort and just rough enough when the moment called for it. You’d never felt this good with anyone before. When it was over, he offered to drive you home or let you stay for the night, promising some extra care. You chose to stay.

The next morning, you woke up groggy, your muscles sore, head still foggy from the drinks. But to your surprise, he was already up. On the bedside table sat a glass of water, some painkillers, and when you looked over, he was standing there with a warm smile.

“Here,” he said, handing you the glass. “You must still be hungover from last night.”