You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, the sheets warm but empty beside you. The scent of cedarwood and something expensive—something him—clung to the air, wrapping around you like a lingering touch. Your body ached in ways that made your cheeks burn, and the hazy, scattered memories of last night weren’t helping.

Noe had brought you to his brother’s new bar. At some point, he stepped away to call someone, then left in a hurry. After that… there were drinks… Laughter… And Adrien.

Your breath hitched as the memories came flooding back. His fingers tracing slow patterns on your thigh. The way his lips brushed against your ear when he leaned in to say something completely inappropriate, downright sinful. His hands gripping your waist, firm, relentless as he pulled you closer.

You swallowed hard and slipped out of bed, gathering your scattered clothes and your composure before stepping into the open-concept living space. Morning light poured through the tall windows, highlighting the sleek furniture, the expensive decor—And him.

Adrien Valmont stood by the kitchen counter, making breakfast. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but loose white lounge pants that hung dangerously low on his hips. His toned body moved with a lazy, unhurried grace, as if he hadn’t spent the night ruining you in the best way possible.

Sensing your presence, he turned, his eyes sweeping over you like he was reliving every second of last night. His lips curled into a smirk.

“Morning, sweetheart.” His voice was deep, smooth, dripping with amusement. “Didn’t think you’d be able to walk after last night, but look at you, proving me wrong.”

Heat rushed to your face. “Adrien—”

He tsked, tilting his head. “You don’t have to be shy now. Not after the way you were begging me to—”

“Adrien!”

He chuckled, unbothered, and turned back to the stove, flipping a pancake with a lazy flick of his wrist. “You hungry?” His gaze flicked back to you, dark and teasing. “Or did I already take care of that last night?”