Dou you mind, Mike?

Mistake?

Sam felt something warm caressing her face. She tried to open her eyes, but the bright sunlight nearly blinded her, so she quickly turned over in bed. There was Mike, lying next to her, sleeping peacefully, his breath slow and steady. She watched the rise and fall of his chest, feeling her face flush again—not from the sun this time, but from the memories of last night.
"Did I really sleep with him? Did that actually happen?" The thought raced through her mind. If the naked Mike beside her wasn't proof enough, her sore muscles definitely were. Sam felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach out and touch his face, but she stopped herself.

Carefully, she slipped out from under the covers, wrapping another blanket around herself. She quietly walked over to the closet, pulling out a simple summer dress. As she made her way to the bathroom, she tried to organize her thoughts, though the memories of last night still swirled around in her mind.

"Okay, Sam, no big deal. You just slept with an old friend; who hasn't been there before?" She kept telling herself as she stood under the shower. She'd been in the bathroom for almost half an hour. A few minutes ago, she'd heard some movement on the other side of the door, and the thought of stepping out terrified her. She wasn't just facing herself; she'd have to face Mike too. She had no idea what this all meant.

She knew that, for Mike, this was probably just casual sex, nothing more. But she wasn't so sure that's all it was for her. Last night, Sam had gotten everything she needed. Mike had literally filled the void in her life. But now, standing under the hot water, she still felt as lost as ever. She wasn't ready for this to be just a fling, but deep down, she knew that's all it was, nothing more.

And that was okay.

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"Hi," Sam said, stepping into the living room while drying her hair with a towel. She felt a pang of frustration when she saw Mike's bag on the couch. "The bathroom's free if you want it."

"Sam..." Mike slowly stood up and walked towards her. His face showed he was trying to find the right words but wasn't sure how to start the conversation.

"Mike," She interrupted, trying to ease the tension. "I had a great time last night. Part of it was probably because we were both lonely and needed someone's presence. Or the wine. Don't worry, I'm not going to read too much into it. After all, you're Michael Munroe." Her voice held a painful laugh, attempting to mask her anxiety.

Mike's face tightened for a moment. "What exactly are you implying?" he asked, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

"I know you, Mike," Sam said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I just wanted to say that we should forget about it and go back to our own lives." She watched Mike's expression, which suddenly became completely emotionless. Not a muscle twitched.

"You have no idea who I am," Mike said, stepping closer to Sam. His voice was firm, though he was clearly trying to hide his emotions. "And it seems I don't know who you are either."

"Of course you don't know, since you've never really cared who you're sleeping with.," Sam shot back, immediately realizing her words had gone too far. Her face went pale as she felt she shouldn't have said that. "Damn it, I didn't mean to say that. I didn't really think it through, I just..."

"I'm glad we cleared this up," Mike replied, his voice completely calm. "Sometimes it's better to just let things go." With that, he grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, struggling to hold back her tears. Mike walked out the door, shutting it behind him without looking back.

Sam remained in the room, and the silence that followed the door closing was almost suffocating. Tears finally started streaming down her face as she stared at the empty living room, wondering how things had ended up this way.

***********************************************************************************************

It was late afternoon when Mike finally got home. The moment he walked through the door, he collapsed onto the bed, his mind swirling with thoughts that refused to settle. Every moment replayed in his head, over and over. He couldn't comprehend how things had spiraled like this. When he woke up that morning, he had no idea he'd end the day like this—alone, in his empty apartment, Sam's scent still lingering in his nose, the memory of the night seared into his skin. He could still feel the silky touch of Sam's skin on his fingertips, and it drove him mad. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. It wasn't supposed to end like this. But Sam had made it clear what she wanted before Mike even had a chance to speak. And now, here he was, drowning in the emptiness, wrapped in nothing but the memory of Sam.

"Are you sure you want this?" Mike's voice trembled as his eyes searched Sam's, desperately seeking reassurance.

"I've never wanted anything more," Sam panted, pulling Mike closer, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, needing to feel his lips on hers again and again.

Mike's heart raced as he braced himself with one hand, while the other slowly made its way toward the last piece of clothing she wore. When he reached the edge of her panties, he paused for a moment, his eyes locking with hers as he asked once more. He couldn't bear the thought of Sam regretting anything. Every second they spent together was precious to him, and he wouldn't allow anything to ruin it.

"Mike, please," Sam's voice quivered as she grabbed his hand and guided it to where she wanted him most. "Do you feel how much I want this?" Her words were sweet, dripping from her lips like honey.

Mike's lips burned with passion as he kissed Sam deeply, then slowly, sensually, began kissing down her jaw, her neck, moving lower and lower. He lingered between her breasts, savoring the softness of her skin, before kissing down her stomach, finally grasping the edge of her panties with both hands, gently pulling them down as he continued to shower her body with kisses, drawing deeper sighs from her with every touch.

Sam's fingers tangled in Mike's hair, instinctively guiding his head toward her wet center, driven by the overwhelming need coursing through her.

"Shh, Sammy, don't rush... I'm going to get there, but first... I want to play with you," Mike's voice was deep and trembling as he whispered against the skin just below her belly. "You wanted me to show you what my fingers can do, didn't you?" One finger slid inside her wetness, finding its way with effortless ease.

"Please, Mike. More," Sam pleaded, her voice thick with desire, every inch of her body begging for him to keep going.

Mike's lips curled into a devilish smile as he gave in to her request, now pleasuring her with two fingers. His gaze never left Sam's face, eager to see the ecstasy she was experiencing because of him. He started with gentle, circular motions, pushing deeper and deeper. As he felt he had reached that elusive spot, he quickened the pace, his fingers moving in and out with increasing intensity. The entire room was filled with the sounds of their shared moisture, creating a symphony of sensuality. Sensing Sam's body trembling under his touch, he slid another finger alongside the others, increasing the rhythm of his movements. With his free hand, he began to massage her clit in a matching tempo, the strokes perfectly synchronized with the rhythm of his fingers inside her. As Mike intensified his touch, Sam's body surrendered completely to the sensation, each touch, each movement eliciting hotter moans and shudders, pushing her to a new peak of ecstasy. The way she arched her back, how she bit her lips to stifle her moans—every reaction she had was both maddening and magnificent. To Mike, it was pure perfection, watching her melt under his touch, responding to his every movement. This moment, this intimacy, was what he had always longed for, and now that he had it, he didn't want it to ever end.