Suspicious Shade

Chapter 8 : Messed Up Morning

Amidst the heated kisses, Claude managed to break away for a moment, gasping for air. "Yve, wait...we can't do this," he started, his voice strained.

Yve nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, her lips moving down to his collarbone. "Why not...?" she whispered, her voice sultry and slurred. "I want you."

Claude let out a groan as Yve's lips found his neck, her tongue tracing a path along his skin. He fought to keep his thoughts clear as he replied, "You're drunk, Yve. You don't know what you want."

Yve pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes hazy and unfocused. "I do know..." she insisted, her voice slurring slightly. "I want you. I've wanted you for so long..."

Despite the alcohol in her system, there was a hint of vulnerability in her words. It tugged at something inside Claude, making it harder to resist her.

Claude's resolve was crumbling, the mixture of his own desires and Yve's vulnerability wearing him down. "Yve," he murmured, his voice ragged. "You're not thinking clearly. You don't really want this."

But even as he spoke the words, his hands were already wandering, tracing over the bare skin of her back, pulling her closer.

Yve let out a soft moan as his hands roamed over her body, the alcohol in her system making her sensations sharper and more intense. She leaned into him, her body molding against his.

"I do want this," she whispered, her voice a sultry purr. "I want you, Claude. I've always wanted you."

As Claude protested, his hands inadvertently gave him away. He tried to hold back, to remember that she was drunk and not thinking clearly, but the feel of her body against his and the seductive whispers from her lips were almost too much to resist.

His hands moved of their own accord, tangling in her hair and pulling her closer. "We can't...we can't do this..." he muttered, but his words were becoming less and less convincing.

Claude was close to giving in. Her words, coupled with the heat of her body against his, were driving him mad. He wanted her just as badly, but his brain was screaming at him to remember that she was drunk, not in her right mind.

"Yve, we can't...we shouldn't do this," he said, but his voice lacked conviction. His hands betrayed his words, moving upwards to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer.

The next morning, Yve slowly opened her eyes, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains blinding her. She squinted against the light, groaning as a throbbing headache took hold.

She looked around, disoriented and confused. This wasn't her bedroom. Where was she?

Yve sat up in the bed, her head spinning as fragments of the previous night flashed through her mind. The drinking. The stumbling. The kissing. Had she really done all that with Claude?

A wave of panic washed over her as the realization sunk in. She was in his apartment, in his bed. Had they done anything else?

After a few moments, her memory slowly started to return. Bits and pieces of the night before came back - the drinking, the stumbling, the...kissing.

She sat up suddenly, her heart racing. Oh God, had she really made out with Claude? Had she really gone home with him?

Claude stirred from his sleep, his eyes slowly opening to the bright sunlight streaming through the window. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and wincing at the slight headache that was starting to form.

He glanced to the side and his eyes widened when he saw Yve still in bed next to him. Memories of the previous night came flooding back, and he felt a jolt of alarm. Oh god. Had they..had they crossed a line last night?