Kaine stirred with a faint groan, the kind born from both exhaustion and satisfaction. The sheets were tangled around his legs, his body warm with the aftermath of the night before. The dim silver of early dawn bled through the blinds, painting soft shadows across the room. He blinked slowly, disoriented for a moment, then remembered.
Rebecca.
She was curled beside him—naked, hair messy, one arm beneath the pillow, the other resting across his stomach. The scent of sex clung to the room, rich with sweat and vanilla. Her skin, a warm golden brown, seemed to drink in the low light. Even after hours of sleep, he could still see faint love bites blooming on her neck and collarbone.
He wasn't sure how many times they'd gone at it before finally crashing into unconsciousness. Three? Four?
His body ached in the good way. Well-used. Well-spent.
But then she moved.
