We move together, more desperate than before, as another orgasm rolls through me. I feel Ethan twitch and swell inside of me. Hear him groan and mutter something about how much he loves the way I look when I’m coming. Feel his lips brush mine as the words disappear down my throat. Then he’s kissing me again, deep and hard.
Coming down, we stay intertwined, arms around each other and foreheads tented together. Eventually, we pull apart in slow, careful movements. Ethan helps guide me off from him, hands on my waist until I’m settled on the bed. Then he stands and walks to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash up.
I lay there, my muscles relaxed but my nerves still buzzing. The afterglow is nearly as intense as the sex itself, and I can’t help but bask in it.
Ethan gave me more than I could have asked for—a one-night stand that I’ll definitely remember forever. My only regret is knowing that it’s about to end.
When Ethan steps out of the bathroom, I expect him to start collecting his clothing and foreshadowing his exit. Instead, he greets me with a warm smile, walks over to the opposite side of the bed, and slides under the covers.
“Are you staying the night?” I ask.
“I was planning to, unless you’d prefer that I leave.”
I shake my head. “No, please…”
Unsure of how I was planning to finish that sentence (please cuddle? please more sex?), I join him under the covers, keeping a sliver of space between us in case cuddling crosses the line. But as soon as I settle in, Ethan objects. Strong arms wrap around me, pulling me closer as his chin comes to rest near my temple.
“Good night, Margot,” he says into my hair.
“Good night, Ethan.”
***
In the morning, I’m awakened by the sound of jeans sliding on, followed by the clink of a metal belt buckle. Groggily, I pull myself upright and rub my eyes until a very out of focus Ethan materializes across the room. Patting the nightstand, I knock over a tube of lip balm before finding my glasses and sliding them onto my face.
“I overslept,” Ethan explains, panicked, unprompted.
I basically croak back at him, “For what?”
He trots out the bedroom door and returns a second later sliding yesterday’s t-shirt over his head. “I told Sophia I’d take her to the aquarium today.”
I may be half-asleep and wholly disoriented, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering if this is Ethan North’s standard one-night stand exit strategy. Does he always magically have somewhere to be before breakfast the next morning?
A glance at my phone reveals that it’s already past ten o’clock.
Okay, so before lunch then.
Also, when was the last time I slept until ten in the morning? Five years ago? No, probably more like a decade ago.
Ethan is hopping, pulling on a shoe, digging for keys in his pocket. He hops to my side of the bed and kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry to rush out of here, but we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.” Another croak.
Super. After a one-night stand with the modern equivalent of a prince, I’m the one who turned into a frog.
Luckily, Ethan is already halfway out the door, so he doesn’t even hear it. I blow out a deep breath and let my pillow pile catch my fall. Then I lay there, somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, replaying a highlight reel of last night in my brain and wishing it wasn’t already over.
***
“Happy birthday!” Emma says when I answer her call. “Sorry I’m a day late.”
“Thank you.”
I already knew that I wouldn’t hear from her yesterday. She was off-grid somewhere in the wilds of New Zealand.
“So, how did you celebrate?” Emma asks, a hint of hesitation clouding her enthusiastic tone.
She knows I was planning to celebrate alone. Knowing Emma, she feels guilty about not traveling across the earth to be with me, even though I expressly commanded her not to.