Avah's POV
A gasp escaped my lips, sharp and involuntary, as pain and pleasure collided in a way I wasn't prepared for. My body tensed, every nerve alive, as I tried to process what was happening.
*This is real.*
The weight of him, the heat of his body, the intensity in his eyes, it was overwhelming. I had never been with anyone before, never even thought I would be, especially not like this. And yet, here I was, tangled up with a man who made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.
He froze, concern flickering across his face. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice a low rumble that somehow soothed the storm inside me.
I nodded, unable to find my voice, but my body seemed to understand, relaxing under his gentle touch. He moved slowly, carefully, as if afraid of breaking me. The initial sting faded, replaced by a warmth that spread through me like a wave.
And then I felt it—pleasure, raw and unfamiliar, building with every movement. My body responded instinctively, meeting his rhythm, finding a harmony I didn't know was possible.
Every touch, every whispered breath, drew me further into a place I'd never been, a place where the world outside didn't exist. It was just us—two people who shouldn't have crossed paths, yet here we were, caught in a moment that felt like fate.
When the intensity peaked, it was like the world shattered and rebuilt itself around us. My body trembled, my breaths ragged, as I clung to him, letting the waves of sensation carry me.
And then there was silence. A stillness that felt oddly comforting.
I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze, and for the first time, I saw something I couldn't quite name, something that made my heart skip a beat.
*What have I just done?*
At some point, exhaustion claimed us both, and we fell asleep.
I woke before him, the early light filtering faintly through the edges of the curtains. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at his face. He looked different in sleep,less intense, almost peaceful. I didn't know why I stayed there, watching him for what felt like ten minutes, memorizing the sharp lines of his jaw and the way his lashes rested against his skin.
But reality crept back in, and I knew it was time to leave.
Quietly, I slipped out of bed and hurried to find my dress. The torn fabric was a stark reminder of everything that had happened. I hastily pulled it on, wincing at its snugness, and grabbed my shoes. My bare feet padded softly across the floor as I moved toward the door.
Before stepping out, I glanced back at him one last time. He looked so serene, completely unaware of my departure. We'll never meet again. I told myself that as if saying it out loud would make it true.
I made my way to the changing room, exchanging the remnants of the night for my own clothes. The familiar fabric grounded me, offering a strange sense of normalcy amidst the whirlwind of emotions.
As I headed for the exit, I spotted one of the waiters. "Tell the manager I've left," I said, my voice quieter than usual.
I didn't want to linger. I didn't want to risk him waking up and finding me there. Who knows what he'll think of me if he does?
With that thought, I stepped out into the cool night air, leaving the club and him behind.
I hailed a cab and sank into the seat, my thoughts spinning as the city lights blurred past the window. My mind kept replaying the events of the night, piecing together the fragmented moments.
I was certain the sleazy man from the first VIP room had drugged me. The symptoms hadn't appeared immediately, thank God for that, but they had hit me when I least expected. My stomach churned at the thought of what could have happened if I hadn't left that room.
A small sigh escaped me, and my thoughts shifted. At least I had been with someone I found attractive. Losing my virginity wasn't how I had imagined it, but I was oddly at peace with it. If it had to happen, I was grateful it wasn't with someone who made my skin crawl. The man from the second room—his dark, piercing eyes and confident demeanor, lingered in my mind.
But I shook the thoughts away. It didn't matter. I'd never see him again.
When the cab finally pulled up to my apartment, I paid the driver and trudged inside. The moment I hit my bed, I collapsed onto it, the exhaustion from the night washing over me like a tidal wave.
As my eyes fluttered shut, I let out a long breath. Later, I'd figure out what came next. For now, I just needed sleep.
I was jolted awake by the sharp ringing of my phone. Groggy and disoriented, I squinted at the screen, debating whether to mute it and go back to sleep. But something told me to pick up.
"Avah, get to the club right now and apologize to our VIP!" my manager's voice roared through the speaker, loud enough to make me wince.
"What?" I mumbled, still half-asleep.
"Didn't you hear me? Now!"
"But I didn't do anything to offend anyone yesterday," I protested, my confusion giving way to frustration.
"If you don't come and apologize, forget this job!"
"Wait, I—"
The line went dead before I could finish. I stared at the phone, anger and disbelief bubbling inside me. What the hell was going on? I hadn't done anything wrong. Well... nothing except the one thing, I wasn't supposed to do, sleep with a customer.
I groaned, running a hand through my hair. I needed this job, and my manager knew it.
A year ago, I woke up in a hospital bed, my body bruised and broken, with no memories of who I was or how I'd gotten there. The only thing I remembered was my first name. Every attempt to piece together my past ended in a splitting headache that felt like my brain was punishing me for even trying.
The club wasn't much, but it was the only steady thing in my life right now. And as much as I hated it, I couldn't afford to lose it.
With a heavy sigh, I dragged myself out of bed, the dread of whatever awaited me at the club sinking into my chest like a stone.