Another lil Benley collection

Night After

Miranda's head pounded like a jackhammer as she blinked her eyes open. Her body hummed with an unspoken story. She tentatively shifted, feeling a pleasurable soreness that hinted at recent intimacy. She squinted against the sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains, casting a golden glow over the room.

A strange room. Her heart skipped a beat as she registered the unfamiliar surroundings. Disoriented, she sat up in bed and felt a dull ache between her legs, the room spun slightly, and she realized this bed definitely wasn't hers. She had never been the type to get blackout drunk and wake up in a stranger's bed. This was definitely a first. And as she came to her senses she mentally declared it would be a last.

Her first thought was to check her phone. No battery. Damn. Her clothes from last night were scattered around the room—a glittery dress tossed over a chair, one heel near the door, the other inexplicably on the nightstand. She could faintly remember laughing with friends, the taste of liquor, and then... nothing.

Her stomach churned as she noticed the sound of running water. The shower was on. Panic started to bubble up inside her. She took a deep breath, hoping to steady herself, but the nausea and disorientation only seemed to intensify.

The bathroom door opened, and a man stepped out, steam curling around him. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and was drying his face with another. Miranda's gaze was drawn to his broad chest, and a jolt of recognition coursed through her. Flashbacks from the night before flooded her mind—her hands pressed against his chest, her moans echoing through the quiet apartment. She had spent hours caressing that skin last night, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, igniting a fire within him.

When he saw her awake, he smiled. "Morning," he said, his voice casual, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Miranda sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Morning, uhhh". She definitely did not remember his name but she knew she knew him.

He looked a bit concerned but kept his tone gentle. "It's Ben, from work. We, uh, ran into each other at the club last night."

Ben. Right. They worked together at the hospital. Bits and pieces of the previous night started to filter back into her memory, but it was all still fuzzy.

"Ben," she repeated, her voice cracking. "Yeah, I remember now." She lied. As she tried to remember, bits and pieces of the night flashed through her mind – laughing at the club, Ben's hand on the small of her back, the two of them stumbling into his apartment.

"Did we...?" she began, her voice trailing off as she gestured vaguely between them.

Ben nodded, his gaze steady. "Yeah, we did."

Miranda closed her eyes, trying to process everything. This was Ben, the guy from work she occasionally chatted with, the guy who seemed nice enough but whom she never really thought about outside the hospital. And now they had... what, hooked up?

"Here, I have something that may help with that hazy hangover feeling" Ben said, rummaging through a nearby drawer. "I've got some Liquid IV packets here. It'll help with the dehydration."

Miranda nodded gratefully as he handed her a bottle of water and a packet. "Thanks," she said, tearing open the packet and pouring it into the bottle. She took a long sip.

"You can hop in the shower if you want," Ben offered, gesturing towards the bathroom. "I'll find you some clothes to throw on."

Miranda hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

He waved off her concern. "Nah, it's no trouble. I'll just grab something from my closet. It'll be better than throwing that back on" He pointed to her dress " And staying wrapped in the sheets." As Ben disappeared into the closet to retrieve some clothes, Miranda slipped out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.