Ambitions Entwined

Chapter 3 | Morning After

Consciousness seeped in slowly, the first tendrils of wakefulness gently tugging me from the depths of a dreamless sleep. I sighed contentedly, burrowing deeper into the plush warmth of my bed, my mind still blissfully hazy and languid.

But just as I was about to surrender to the lull of slumber again, a strong arm snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against a solid wall of heat. My eyes flew open, my heart leaping into my throat as panic chased away the lingering fog of sleep.

Disoriented, I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. The familiar trappings of my bedroom slowly came into focus - the pale morning light filtering through gauzy curtains and the tasteful abstract art adorning the walls. But the presence at my back was decidedly unfamiliar, and I felt a rising tide of dread as fragmented memories of the previous night began to surface.

The gala. The bingo game. The stolen moments at the bar, whispering secrets and swapping stories with James as the liquor flowed and inhibitions lowered. And then... oh god. The heated kisses in the back of his car, the frantic tangle of limbs and gasping breaths as we stumbled through my front door, heedless of the consequences.

I bolted upright, clutching the sheet to my bare chest as I twisted to face my bedmate. James lay sprawled beside me, his auburn hair mussed and his chiselled features softened by sleep. He opened one eye at my abrupt movement, a frown marrying his brow.

"Christ, woman," he grumbled, his voice rough with drowsiness. "What's with the commotion?"

My cheeks flamed with a mixture of outrage and mortification. "James, what the hell are you doing in my bed?"

He propped himself up on one elbow, a lazy smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well, good morning to you too, sunshine. I must say, you're even lovelier in the light of day."

I gaped at him, sputtering incoherently as I struggled to process the absurdity. "This isn't funny, James! What... I mean, did we...?"

I trailed off, unable to voice the question aloud. Memories were still hazy and fragmented. James's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Ah, now she asks. Relax, love. Despite your valiant efforts to seduce me, I remain a gentleman. Your virtue is intact."

I felt the blood drain from my face as hazy recollections began to take shape - heated kisses, wandering hands, a desperate ache for more. "We didn't...?"

James chuckled, shaking his head. "No, we didn't go that far. However, believe me, it wasn't due to a lack of enthusiasm on your end. You were quite... determined in your pursuit, shall we say."

Groaning, I buried my face in my hands, wishing the mattress would swallow me whole. "Oh god. I'm so sorry, James. I don't know what came over me. The alcohol, the stress of the gala... I wasn't thinking straight."

"Clearly," he teased, fingers trailing up my arm. His tone was far too amused for my liking. "Though I must say, I rather enjoyed getting to know this wild, uninhibited side of you. It's quite a refreshing change from the buttoned-up ice queen I'm used to."

I shot him a withering glare, tugging the sheet higher and swatted his hand away. "Yes, well, don't get used to it. Last night was a mistake, one that won't be repeated."

James held up his hands in mock surrender, his eyes dancing with laughter. "Whatever you say, love. Though, for the record, you seemed quite keen on trying your luck again when you woke up in the middle of the night."

I felt my cheeks flame anew, and I scrambled out of bed, sheet clutched to my chest. "You're impossible," I huffed, stalking towards the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower. I trust you can see yourself out."