Samantha didn't want any drama.
Raihan was just looking for a good time.
Their coming together was the fickle nature of fate in the form of a camera click. One night of passion is all it takes to keep Samantha coming back for more, and Raihan simpl...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Samantha woke to the feeling of warmth, and a familiar scent. It had a lingering hint of sweet cologne mixed with a pleasant musk that was decidedly masculine. She'd had a dreamless sleep, which had been welcoming, but the sight before her as she opened her eyes was even better. Raihan slept next to her, arm draped lazily over her waist. She noted he was fully clothed—and so was she. It wasn't the first time, but unlike before it hadn't been an accident. She recalled the events from yesterday, and although anger was still hot and fresh in her belly—Aaron's face there, smiling and snarling at the same time—there was another, new thing stirring. She couldn't grasp quite what, but it made her grateful—and happy—Raihan was here. With her. She couldn't even be angry he'd helped, when, really, she was glad for that, too. She wasn't sure what she would have done with the broken bottle in the end, and he as right; she didn't need the legal trouble. That asshole wasn't worth it, even if he deserved to have shards of glass shoved in his face.
He was gone, though. At least, for now. She didn't doubt he might come back, but he'd think twice about being so bold. He knew she wasn't going to roll over for him anymore, and she had people who would help her besides Darcy. He'd never been much of a fighter, preferring to stick to the side lines and use words and tricks or even others to do his dirty work, so she wasn't too worried he'd escalate beyond being obnoxious. The more he did, though, the more she had for the authorities to arrest him. She could endure it this time, that was for sure. And she'd make sure he went to jail. No one here in Galar knew or cared about him; they wouldn't have his back. And she doubted his family could pay it off this time—not with how shabby he was, or if their failing "careers" weren't a lie.
Samantha smiled.
Yep. Aaron was powerless here.
She, however, was strong and had friends. And Raihan.
The man in question made a rumble-like sound, the kind he made when he was coming out of sleep. She'd come to learn it after waking up first after their many post-sex naps. He had a little "routine" in fact. First, came the little rumble. Then he scrunched his nose as if smelling something unpleasant, nuzzled into his pillow, and then turned slightly to yawn loudly and wide enough his toothy canine showed. Not once did he open his eyes, rubbing at his face and then stomach. He paused, brows scrunching underneath his beanie as he touched at his abdomen, which was a lot more cloth than he usual, woman in his bed or not. His eyes opened at last then, and he quickly realized the ceiling above him was not his. The redhead next to him, though, was a familiar sight, and his perplexed look turned to a pleased grin.
