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“Yes, sir.”Her head bobbing up and down, her hair swishing around her.

I drive my length into her with a single thrust, not stopping until my hips slam up against her ass.A guttural cry of pleasure echoes throughout the room.I stay pressed up against her for five long seconds, letting her adjust to my size, and then I draw back and drive into her again.And again.And again.

It takes less than ten strokes before she orgasms, the walls of her pussy convulsing around my cock as she screams out in relief.Her shoulders sag to the bed, my grip tightening on her hips as I continue to thrust into her, my release detonating a moment after.Always after.Never first.

When it’s over, I don’t rush.I never rush.I step back first.Create space.Let the moment settle before breaking it completely.

“You did well,” I tell her, voice even and steady.Her shoulders soften slightly at that.Not relief.It’s acknowledgment.I help her clean up, make sure she’s okay.

I adjust my cuffs.My jacket.Return everything to order.She gathers herself with the same quiet precision.No mess.No chaos.Exactly as intended.I make sure she’s okay, then let her leave first.

The hallway feels cooler when I step out several moments after.Sharper.I roll my shoulders once, resetting, already compartmentalizing the last hour into its proper place.It’s contained.Done.I take two steps.Then stop.Because something feels off.Not the space.Not the sound.But something.My gaze shifts down the corridor.And lands on the last person I ever expected to see here.In this place.

For a second, just one, I don’t move.I don’t think.I don’t breathe.Ten years collapses into that single second.She looks exactly the same.And also, completely different.

Her eyes meet mine.Recognition hits instantly.Sharp and undeniable.Her expression doesn’t change.But something unspoken passes between us that’s too heavy to name in a hallway like this.

She doesn’t stop walking.Doesn’t hesitate.The man beside her says something low, his hand brushing lightly at her back as they move past me.She doesn’t look away from me until the last possible second.And when she does, just like that, she’s gone.

I don’t follow.I don’t call out.I don’t move.Not immediately.Because for the first time in a long time, I don’t know what comes next.And I don’t like it.Not even a little bit.

Chapter Two

Hayden

Every Breath You Take

The Police

I don’t look back at the building when I step outside.I don’t need to.I know exactly where I am.Exactly what’s behind me.Exactly how the space is laid out.The night air is colder than it should be.Or maybe I just notice it more.Control starts with awareness.

I reach my car, unlock it, and slide inside.The door shuts with a solid, contained sound.It’s quiet.For a moment, I sit there with my hands resting on the wheel.I’m completely still.My breathing paced, even though my heart rate is not.I look up.The entrance is in my direct line of sight.Of course it is.I didn’t park here by accident.

I chose this spot before I even stepped inside earlier tonight.I always do.Predictable entry.Predictable exit.Patterns and systems equal control.She doesn’t come out right away.That’s fine.

I don’t rush.I don’t check the time.I don’t reach for my phone.I wait.A couple exits first.Then another.Mikey a moment later, climbing into what I assume is an Uber he called.I’m surprised he’s stayed as long as he did, but it is really good tequila.

Two women, laughing quietly between themselves as they step out onto the sidewalk and head toward a waiting car.I catalog it all without thinking.None of it matters.Until it does.

Ten minutes.Maybe fifteen.Then, her.She steps out like she belongs to the night.Not rushing, but not lingering either.Just moving.The same way she walked past me in the hallway.There’s no hesitation in her stride.No searching glance.No uncertainty about where she’s going.

My grip tightens on the wheel.The slightest loss of control.Not enough to be visible.Just enough that I feel it.The man from the hallway steps out behind her.He’s close but not touching.It’s the kind of close that’s deliberate.I study the space between them.That space tells me more than anything else.

He says something.She turns her head slightly to listen.No tension in her shoulders.She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t lean in either.Her actions are neutral and controlled.I don’t like that I can’t read her.

They stop near the curb.No driver pulls up.No car waiting.Good.That narrows it down for me.He gestures down the street.She shakes her head once and says something in return.He pauses.Then nods.Steps back and leaves.Just like that.I exhale slowly.She’s leaving alone.That should simplify things.It doesn’t.

She reaches into her bag, pulls out a set of keys.No hesitation.No glancing around.She’s been here before.Knows exactly where she parked.I watch her cross the street.My eyes track every movement without effort.It’s automatic.It always has been.

But there’s definitely something different about her.It’s not just time.Not just ten years settling into sharper lines, quieter confidence.It’s her very presence here.The girl I knew, no, I cut the thought off before it finishes, because it’s irrelevant.That version of her obviously doesn’t exist anymore.But neither does the version of me that knew her.

She unlocks her car.It’s not a luxury model, but not cheap either.It’s clean and practical.That tells me more than it would most people.She slides inside.Shuts the door.A second later, headlights flare.She pulls out smoothly, merging into traffic without hesitation.There’s no wasted movement or uncertainty.She knows exactly where she’s going.

I wait three seconds.Then I start the engine and pull out into traffic.I don’t follow too close.That would be careless.I leave space.Two cars between us.Sometimes three.Adjusting when I need to.Matching speed without mirroring it.Controlled and measured.

She doesn’t check her mirrors more than necessary.Doesn’t hesitate at lights.Doesn’t drift lanes.The city shifts as we move.From industrial edges into something softer.More residential.More lived in.I recognize the direction before I consciously register it.Mikey’s side of the city.Interesting.

She turns.Then again.Slows down and signals.Pulls into a street lined with trees and low-rise buildings that carry history in their brick and stone.Not new.Not sterile.Buildings with character.She parks in front of one of them and kills the engine.She sits for a second before stepping out.Habit?I definitely wonder.