Room 1208: A Night Without Destination

**Room 1208: A Night Without Destination** The lobby of the Grand Hotel Miramar smelled of aged leather and jasmine, a blend that clung to the black marble walls like a perfume too expensive to wash away. Lara crossed the polished floor, the sharp heels of her pumps clicking in a dry rhythm, each step echoing the exhaustion of twelve hours of flight, three missed connections, and a delay that had turned her immaculate linen suit into a crumpled rag. The air conditioning blew against her neck, cold as a blade, but she barely felt it—her skin was numb, the muscles in her back locked in knots no spa in the world could undo that night. The receptionist, a man with an angular face and an oily voice, slid the magnetic key across the counter with a professional smile. *"Room 1208, Miss Viana. I hope your stay is… reinvigorating."* Lara grabbed the card with fingers that trembled slightly, not from cold, but from contained irritation. Reinvigorating. As if a night in a five-star hotel could erase the fact that she had missed the most important meeting of the quarter, that her boss had looked at her with that mix of pity and disappointment over the phone, that, for the first time in five years, her career seemed to slip through her fingers like sand. She didn’t look back as she headed toward the elevators. She didn’t see the crystal chandeliers dripping golden light over the velvet sofas, nor the potted palms swaying gently in the artificial breeze. Her focus was the distorted reflection in the polished metal of the elevator doors—a woman with chestnut hair pulled into a severe bun, deep shadows under her green eyes, lips painted a red that now seemed too aggressive for her pale face. Lara exhaled slowly, as if she could expel the tension squeezing her ribs along with the breath. The elevator arrived with a soft *ding*, and she stepped inside, pressing the button for the twelfth floor harder than necessary. --- On the other side of the lobby, seated on a high red leather stool, Daniel swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the amber liquid reflect the amber light of the lamps. The lobby bar was one of those places that existed to be seen, not used—cold designer furniture, background music no one listened to, waiters circulating like discreet shadows. But he liked it there. He liked the way people came and went, each carrying their own stories, their own weariness. It was like watching a silent film, only better, because sometimes, if you paid attention, you could hear the dialogues they didn’t say. Daniel wasn’t much of a drinker. Three fingers of whiskey were enough to loosen his tongue without dulling his senses. And he needed his senses sharp that night. There was something in the air—static electricity, as if the hotel were holding its breath. Maybe it was the fact that, for the first time in months, he had no show scheduled, no contract to sign, no groupie waiting in the next room. Just him, his guitar in its case at his feet, and the promise of a night without destination. That was when she passed. Lara. He saw her before she even came into view—the sound of her heels on the marble first, a *clack-clack* urgent enough to cut through the murmur of conversations in the lobby. Then, the scent. It wasn’t perfume. It was something subtler, more intimate: the aroma of a woman who had just disembarked from a plane, a mix of first-class leather seats, airport coffee, and that light, almost imperceptible sweat that comes after hours of tension. When she finally appeared, Daniel felt his body react before he even processed the image—a heat at the nape of his neck, a tightness in his chest, as if someone had pulled an invisible thread between them. She was tall, but not as tall as the models who usually circulated backstage at his shows. She wore a suit that screamed "successful executive," but the blazer was open, the blouse slightly disheveled, as if she had fought with the fabric during the flight. Her hair, pulled into a bun that looked ready to unravel, left the delicate curve of her neck exposed, and Daniel imagined what it would be like to press his lips there, to feel her accelerated pulse beneath her skin. He took a sip of whiskey, letting the liquid burn his throat. He wasn’t the type to approach women at the bar. He wasn’t the type to believe in fate, in chance encounters, in any of that romantic crap his song lyrics usually explored. But there was something about her—something in the way she moved, as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, yet still refused to let anyone see how much it hurt. The elevator doors closed behind her with a metallic sigh. Daniel smiled at his own reflection in the glass. --- Lara pressed her back against the elevator wall, closing her eyes for a second. The cold metal soothed the burning in her skin, but not enough. She needed a shower. She needed a bed. She needed, above all, for this night to end. The doors were beginning to close when a hand slipped between them. *"Sorry, can you hold it?"* The voice was low, raspy, with an accent she couldn’t immediately place. Lara opened her eyes and found herself face to face with a man in a slightly unbuttoned black shirt, the first buttons undone revealing a thin silver chain. He had brown eyes, almost golden under the artificial light, and a stubble that made him look like he had just woken from a deep sleep—or hadn’t slept in days. She hesitated for a second before pressing the button to keep the doors open. *"Sure."* The man stepped in with a nod, carrying a guitar in a black case. *"Thanks. These elevators are treacherous."* Lara didn’t answer. She looked straight ahead, at the numbers lighting up one by one on the panel, feeling the heat of his body beside her. He smelled of cheap soap and cigarette smoke, an oddly comforting combination. When the elevator stopped on the seventh floor, she felt a pang of disappointment—as if, somehow, she had expected him to go up to the twelfth floor with her. *"Good night,"* he said, stepping out with a half-smile. *"Good night,"* she replied, and the doors closed before she could stop herself from looking at him one last time. The elevator started moving again, and Lara exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her body still tingled where his arm had brushed against hers, a light prickling that spread up her forearm, her shoulder, until it settled at the base of her neck. She shook her head, irritated with herself. This night had already been too long. And yet, when the doors opened on the twelfth floor, she couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t over yet. Lara pressed the elevator button harder than necessary, as if the urgency of the gesture could speed up the cabin’s arrival. The hotel hallway smelled of new carpet and lemon disinfectant, an artificial scent that mingled with the exhaustion weighing on her shoulders. She had barely taken off her heels when she got out of the taxi, and now her feet throbbed in protest against the cold marble floor. The elevator doors opened with a soft *ding*, revealing an empty space bathed in a warm, almost intimate yellow light. Lara stepped in, relieved not to have to share the space with anyone else. She pressed the button for the twelfth floor and leaned against the mirrored wall, watching her reflection—the chestnut hair, once pulled into a perfect bun, now loose in rebellious strands; the green eyes marked by faint dark circles; the once immaculate white silk blouse now wrinkled from the airplane seatbelt. That was when she heard hurried footsteps in the hallway. A man appeared at the elevator entrance, his fingers tapping quickly against the doorframe to keep it open. Lara straightened instinctively, as if her posture could compensate for the fact that she was about to share a tiny space with a stranger. He stepped in with a fluid, almost dancing motion, and pressed the button for the seventh floor before the doors closed. — Sorry — he said, his voice rough, as if he had just woken up or sung for hours. — I didn’t mean to startle you. Lara shook her head, an automatic smile on her lips. — It’s fine. I’m not very good with timing either. The elevator began to ascend, and the silence between them stretched, thick as the air before a storm. She felt the weight of his gaze on her even before she turned to face him. When she finally did, she met dark, almost black eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her hold her breath. He had an angular face, marked by a day’s stubble that gave him a carelessly seductive air. His lips, slightly parted, seemed made for lazy smiles and whispered words. — You’re on the twelfth floor — he commented, as if that explained something. — Long trip? — Delayed flight — she replied, surprised at how easily the words came out. — And you? — Lobby bar. — He tilted his head, as if assessing whether she deserved more explanations. — Sometimes I like to watch people. They’re more interesting when they think no one’s looking. Lara laughed, a low and unexpected sound. — And what did you discover today? — That female executives on business trips have a specific way of holding their purse straps. — He mimicked the gesture, his fingers gripping an imaginary object tightly. — Like they’re ready to run at any moment. She looked at her own hand, still clenched around the purse strap, and laughed again. — Stress. — Or distrust. — He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. — Do you always travel alone? — Most of the time. — Lara felt the heat rise in her neck. — And you? — Always. — His voice was soft, almost a murmur. — But tonight I’m starting to think that maybe it’s not the best idea. The elevator stopped on the seventh floor with a slight jolt, and Lara held her breath. He didn’t move. Instead, he leaned back slightly, as if preparing for something. — This is my floor — he said, but made no move to leave. — Oh. — She felt her heart beat faster. — Good night, then. — Good night. — He hesitated, his fingers brushing the doorframe. — By the way, my name’s Daniel. — Lara. — Pleasure, Lara. — Her name sounded different in his mouth, as if he were savoring each syllable. — I hope your night is… less stressful than your flight. She smiled, feeling the weight of the innuendo. — Me too. The doors began to close, and Lara instinctively reached out, as if to stop them. Daniel laughed, a low and rough sound, and took a step back. — See you, executive. — See you. The doors closed, and Lara exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The elevator started moving again, but now the space seemed smaller, as if his scent—cheap soap, cigarette smoke, something darker and more masculine—still lingered in the air. She touched her lips with her fingers, as if she could hold onto the echo of that conversation. The twelfth floor had never seemed so far away. And, for the first time that night, she wasn’t in a hurry to get there. The elevator left her on the twelfth floor with a soft *ding*, as if the building were also holding its breath. Lara walked down the carpeted hallway, her heels sinking slightly into the thick fabric, while the smell of cleaning products and recycled air conditioning mixed with the lingering scent of Daniel—something citrusy with a woody undertone that seemed to cling to her skin. She ran her hand along her arm, as if she could still feel the heat of his touch in the elevator, that casual brush that was anything but. Room 1208 had a heavy, dark wooden door with an electronic lock that blinked green as soon as she brought the card close. Inside, the darkness was almost complete, broken only by the blue glow of the alarm clock and the faint city lights seeping through the half-open curtains. Lara tossed her bag onto the corner sofa, kicked off her shoes with a sigh of relief, and headed straight for the minibar. She needed something strong. Something that burned. The single malt whiskey was cold, but she poured it neat, without ice, and drank half in one gulp. The liquid burned as it went down, a line of fire spreading through her chest and settling in her stomach, as if it could incinerate the last twenty-four hours—the delayed flight, the canceled meeting, the client who had treated her like an incompetent intern. She closed her eyes, feeling the alcohol take effect almost immediately, a warm wave that softened the tense muscles in her shoulders. But it wasn’t enough. Lara took off her blazer, letting it fall onto the bed, and unbuttoned the first few buttons of her blouse. The air conditioning was strong, but she didn’t care. She needed movement, noise, something other than the hollow silence of the room. She picked up the phone and dialed room service, ordering a second drink—a gin and tonic this time, with lots of lemon and a pinch of pepper. "To cut the sweetness," she explained to the attendant, who didn’t seem surprised. While she waited, she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her chestnut hair, usually impeccable, was slightly disheveled, a few strands escaping the low bun. Her green eyes, always so sharp, had a different glow—something between exhaustion and an excitement she didn’t want to name. She ran her fingers over the dark circles under her eyes, as if she could erase them, and then laughed at herself. Who was she trying to fool? It wasn’t sleep that was keeping her awake. A knock at the door made her jump. The waiter, a young man with a professional smile, delivered the tray with the tall glass, full of ice and a lemon slice floating on the surface. Lara thanked him, gave a generous tip, and closed the door with her foot. The gin and tonic was perfect—cold, tart, with that spicy kick that tickled her nose. She took a long sip, feeling the taste of juniper and alcohol mix on her tongue, and then decided: she wouldn’t stay there. The hotel bar was one of those places designed to look sophisticated without being pretentious—golden lights, dark leather sofas, a wall of bottles reflecting the amber glow of the lamps. There were few people at that hour, just a few executives with their ties loosened and an older couple who seemed to be celebrating something, laughing too loudly. Lara chose a stool in the corner of the counter, where the light was dimmer, and ordered a third drink—now a negroni, because she needed something bitter to balance the sweetness spreading through her body. That was when she saw him. Daniel was sitting a few stools away, a glass of whiskey in hand and a lazy smile on his face. He wore a black shirt, the first buttons undone, and his dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his hands through it several times. When their eyes met, he raised his glass in a silent toast, and Lara felt the heat rise in her neck. — Executive — he said, approaching with the same ease of someone resuming an interrupted conversation. — Don’t tell me you’re drinking alone. — What if I am? — Lara raised an eyebrow, swirling the glass between her fingers. — Then I’d say it’s a waste of a good negroni. — He sat on the stool next to her, so close she could feel the heat of his body. — And also that you’re missing the chance to hear a very interesting story. — Oh, really? — She took a sip, letting the bitterness of the drink mix with the smile threatening to escape. — And what would that story be? Daniel leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret. — The story of how I met the most beautiful woman in the hotel tonight, and how she left me standing in the elevator without even telling me her name. Lara laughed, a light sound that surprised even her. It was the first time in days she had laughed for real, without that weight in her chest. — You’re ridiculous. — And you’re avoiding the question. — He pointed at her glass. — May I? She hesitated for a second, but then pushed the negroni toward him. Daniel took a sip, his eyes never leaving hers, and then licked his lips in a way that made Lara shift on her stool. — Good — he said, handing the glass back. — But not as good as the taste of your mouth would be. Lara nearly choked on her own drink. He laughed, a low and rough sound, and ordered another whiskey from the bartender. — Are you always like this? — she asked, trying to regain control. — Like what? — So… direct. Daniel shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. — Life’s short. Why waste time beating around the bush? — Because sometimes people aren’t ready to hear the truth. — And are you? — He leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. — Ready to hear that since I saw you in the elevator, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you? Lara felt her heart race. The bar suddenly seemed warmer, the air thicker. She looked at his lips—full, slightly damp from the whiskey—and then at his eyes, dark and bright, as if they knew exactly the effect they were having. — You’re dangerous — she murmured. — And you like that. — He smiled, slow and confident. — I can see it in your eyes. She should have said no. She should have finished her drink, paid the bill, and gone back to her room. But instead, Lara leaned forward until her lips almost brushed his ear. — Prove it. Daniel didn’t hesitate. He cupped her face with one hand, his fingers warm against her skin, and kissed her. It wasn’t a soft, tentative kiss—it was a hungry kiss, as if he had been waiting for this since the elevator. Lara tasted whiskey and something sweeter, something that could only be him, and moaned softly against his mouth. When they pulled apart, both were breathless. — That — he said, his voice rough — was better than I imagined. Lara laughed, but the sound came out shaky. She ran her tongue over her lips, as if she could keep the taste of him. — And now? Daniel smiled, that smile that promised things she didn’t even dare name. — Now we decide if we’re staying here, where anyone can see us… — he ran his thumb over her lower lip, slow, deliberate — or if we’re going somewhere more private. Lara looked at her nearly empty glass, then at his eyes. The bar suddenly felt too small, the walls too close. She stood up, feeling her legs a little unsteady, and took his hand. — Let’s go. The elevator ascended slowly, as if time had stretched between them. Lara pressed the button for the twelfth floor with fingers that trembled slightly, not from nervousness, but from that electric anticipation coursing through her skin since the moment Daniel had intertwined his fingers with hers at the bar. The frosted mirror on the walls reflected only blurred silhouettes, but she felt the weight of his gaze, hot and persistent, as if he could undress her right there, without hurry. — You’re quiet — he murmured, his voice low and rough, as he approached from behind. His breath smelled of whiskey and mint, and she felt the heat of his body against her back before he even touched her. A shiver ran down her spine when his lips brushed the curve of her neck, a light kiss, almost imperceptible, but enough to make her heart beat faster. — I’m thinking — she replied, her voice coming out more breathless than she intended. — About what? — His fingers slid over her waist, pulling her against him. Lara felt the firmness of his desire against her back, and a moan escaped her lips before she could stop it. — About how crazy this is — she admitted, turning to face him. The elevator stopped with a gentle jolt, and the doors opened, revealing the empty hallway bathed in amber light. — About how I barely know you. Daniel smiled, that slow and dangerous smile she was already beginning to recognize. — Sometimes, madness is the only thing that makes sense — he said, pulling her out of the elevator. The doors closed behind them with a soft click, and the hallway seemed to shrink around them, as if the whole world had reduced to that moment, to that space between them. Lara didn’t answer. Instead, she led him to the door of room 1208, her fingers trembling as she tried to insert the magnetic card into the lock. Daniel didn’t rush her. Instead, he stood behind her, his hands braced against the wall on either side of her body, trapping her without touching. She felt his heat against her back, the scent of his skin mixed with the woody perfume he wore, and a shiver ran through her when his lips brushed the shell of her ear. — Let me help — he whispered, and his fingers covered hers, guiding the card until the green light flashed and the door unlocked with a click. The room was bathed in dim light, illuminated only by the soft glow coming from the city through the half-open curtains. Lara entered first, feeling the soft carpet under her bare feet—she had taken off her shoes at the bar without even realizing it. Daniel closed the door behind him, and for a moment, they just stood there, motionless, looking at each other as if trying to memorize every detail. Then, Lara approached him slowly, as if moving underwater. Her fingers found the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, and when their lips met again, there was no more hesitation. The kiss was deep, hungry, as if both were trying to devour each other. Daniel pushed her against the wall beside the door, his hands sliding over her hips, pressing her against him as his tongue explored her mouth with an urgency that made her legs weaken. — Fuck — he murmured against her lips, his voice rough. — Do you have any idea what you do to me? Lara laughed, a low and breathless sound, as her hands moved down his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. — I think I have an idea — she replied, pulling his shirt out of his pants with quick, impatient movements. The buttons opened one by one, revealing his tanned skin and the firm contours of his abdomen. She ran her fingertips over his chest, feeling his heart beating strongly under her palm. Daniel groaned when she tilted her head and ran her tongue over his nipple, lightly biting before continuing her exploration. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as she moved downward, kissing every inch of exposed skin, tasting the salty flavor and the masculine scent emanating from him. — Lara — he whispered, her name sounding like a prayer. — If you keep this up, I won’t last. She smiled against his skin, her lips brushing his navel as her hands moved to his belt. — Who said I want you to last? Daniel let out a rough groan when she unzipped his pants and wrapped her hand around his length, feeling the hot, firm pulse beneath her fingers. He was hard, ready, and the simple act of touching him sent a liquid heat spreading between her legs. Lara stroked him slowly, exploring every inch, while he braced himself against the wall with one hand, the other still tangled in her hair, pulling her closer with each movement. — You’re dangerous — he murmured, his dark eyes fixed on her as she knelt in front of him. — You haven’t seen anything yet — she replied, before taking the tip of him into her mouth. Daniel let out a guttural sound when she wrapped her lips around him, her tongue sliding along his length in slow, deliberate movements. He was big, and she took him slowly, feeling him pulse in her mouth as his hands tangled more tightly in her hair. Lara liked the control she had in that moment, the way he trembled under her touch, the way his moans filled the silent room. — Holy shit — he groaned, pulling her up before she could take him over the edge. — I want you. Now. Lara didn’t argue. Instead, she let him lift her, his strong hands gripping her thighs as he carried her to the bed. She fell onto the soft mattress, and Daniel positioned himself between her legs, his eyes burning with desire as he watched her. He pulled her dress up, exposing her black lace panties, and ran his fingers along the edge of the fabric, teasing her. — You’re beautiful — he murmured, leaning down to kiss the inside of her thigh. — Every inch of you. Lara arched her back when his lips found her sensitive skin, kissing and lightly biting as his hands moved downward, pulling her panties to the side. She was wet, ready, and when his tongue touched her for the first time, a moan escaped her lips. — Daniel — she whispered, her hands tangling in the sheets as he explored her with his mouth, slow and deliberate. He knew exactly what he was doing, each movement calculated to take her to the edge before pulling back, leaving her breathless and desperate. — What do you want? — he asked, looking up at her as his fingers penetrated her slowly, feeling her tighten around them. — You — she replied, her voice trembling. — Inside me. Now. Daniel didn’t need to be told twice. He stood up, removing his pants and underwear with quick movements, before positioning himself between her legs. Lara watched him, her eyes dark with desire, as he took a condom from his wallet and put it on with steady hands. Then, he leaned over her, his lips meeting hers in a deep kiss as he positioned himself at her entrance. — Look at me — he asked, his voice rough. Lara obeyed, her eyes locked on his as he entered her slowly, inch by inch, filling her in a way that made her whole body tremble. She moaned when he paused, giving her a moment to adjust, before he began to move, slow at first, but gaining speed as the pleasure grew between them. — Fuck, Lara — he groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he increased the pace. — You feel so good. She didn’t answer. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling him deeper with each thrust. The room filled with the sound of their bodies meeting, of moans and sighs, as the pleasure built inside her, a wave threatening to consume her completely. Daniel leaned down to kiss her again, his tongue exploring her mouth as his hands slid downward, finding the sensitive spot between her legs. Lara cried out when he touched her, the pleasure intensifying with each movement, until she couldn’t hold back anymore. — Daniel — she moaned, her whole body trembling as the orgasm hit her with force, making her arch her back and cling to him tightly. He didn’t stop. Instead, he kept moving, prolonging her pleasure as he chased his own. Lara felt when he reached his limit, his body tensing as he thrust into her harder, before letting out a rough groan and collapsing on top of her. For a moment, they lay there, breathless, their bodies entwined, their sweat mingling. Lara ran her fingers down his back, feeling the trembling muscles beneath her touch, as he buried his face in her neck, breathing deeply. — That — he murmured, his voice muffled — was way better than I imagined. Lara laughed, a soft and satisfied sound, as she held him tighter. — It’s not over yet — she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. Daniel lifted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with a new wave of desire. — No? — No — she replied, pulling him closer. — The night is still young. Daniel didn’t need any more encouragement. With a fluid motion, he rolled onto his side, taking Lara with him, until she was on top of him, her knees sinking into the soft mattress, his hands now free to explore every curve of her body. The dim light from the lamp cast golden shadows over her skin, highlighting the sheen of sweat forming between her breasts, at the curve of her waist, along the line of her hips. — You’re beautiful like this — he murmured, his fingers tracing slow circles on the inside of her thighs, making her arch her back. — All open, all mine. Lara bit her lower lip, feeling the weight of his gaze on her, the way he looked at her as if she were the most precious thing he had ever seen. There was something liberating about being there, naked, exposed, without shame, without reservations. She leaned forward, resting her hands on his chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of his heart beneath her palm. — And you — she whispered, brushing her lips against his neck, tasting the salty flavor of his skin — are so much more than I expected. Daniel laughed, a low and rough sound, as his hands slid to her buttocks, squeezing firmly. — Then show me what else you want — he challenged, his thumbs tracing dangerous lines near the center of her pleasure. Lara didn’t hesitate. She rose slightly, guiding him inside her with deliberate slowness, feeling every inch of him fill her, stretch her, until they were completely joined. A long, trembling moan escaped her lips as she began to move, first slowly, then with more confidence, finding a rhythm that made them both gasp. Daniel held her hips, helping her maintain control, but letting her set the pace. His eyes never left hers, even as his breathing became heavier, more urgent. Lara felt each movement like a wave of pleasure, each one more intense, each one deeper. She leaned back, resting her hands on his thighs, changing the angle, and it was as if an electric current ran through her. — Oh, God — she moaned, her fingers digging into his skin. — Like this… like this… Daniel didn’t need further instructions. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer, as his mouth found one of her nipples, sucking hard. Lara cried out, the pleasure mixing with the slight, delicious pain, and she quickened her movements, chasing the climax that was already building deep in her belly. — Come for me — he ordered, his voice rough, as one of his hands slid between their bodies, finding the exact spot that would make her lose control. Lara couldn’t resist. The orgasm hit her like a wave, crashing over her in violent spasms, making her tremble as she cried out his name, her inner muscles clenching around him tightly. Daniel groaned, feeling her body contract around his, but he didn’t stop. He held her firmly, continuing to move inside her, prolonging the pleasure until she was limp, breathless, her lips parted in a satisfied sigh. — Not yet — he murmured, kissing her with renewed urgency. — It’s not over yet. Lara barely had time to catch her breath before he flipped her onto her side, pulling her to the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side. He knelt on the floor, pulling her closer until her hips were aligned with his mouth. Lara’s eyes widened, a protest already forming on her lips, but he didn’t give her a chance. — Trust me — he said, his dark eyes fixed on hers as his lips brushed the inside of her thigh. Lara swallowed hard, her heart pounding so loudly she could feel it in her throat. She had never let anyone do this before, had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. But there was something in the way he looked at her, as if she were the only thing that mattered, that made her nod, even if hesitantly. Daniel didn’t waste time. The first lick was slow, deliberate, tracing a hot, wet line from her entrance to her most sensitive spot. Lara arched her back, a moan escaping her lips as her fingers tangled in the sheets. He took his time, exploring every fold, every inch, as if memorizing her taste, her texture, the way she reacted to each touch. — Fuck — she moaned, her legs trembling as he increased the pressure, his tongue working in slow circles, then fast, then slow again, as if playing with her, testing her limits. Daniel held her thighs firmly, keeping her in place as his mouth devoured her, his lips sucking, his tongue penetrating, until Lara was writhing, her hips moving on their own, seeking more, always more. She had never felt anything like this before—a sensation so intense it bordered on pain, but was too good to stop. — Daniel… I’m going to… — she managed to say, her voice broken, her nails digging into his skin. He didn’t stop. Instead, he quickened the pace, his tongue now working in sync with his fingers, which slid inside her, curving at the perfect angle. Lara cried out, her entire body tensing as another orgasm swept through her, stronger than the last, leaving her breathless, powerless, completely at his mercy. Daniel stood up, his lips glistening, his dark eyes full of satisfaction. He leaned over her, kissing her hard, letting her taste herself on his tongue. Lara moaned against his mouth, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. — You’re incredible — he murmured, his voice rough, as his hand slid between their bodies, guiding himself back inside her. Lara moaned when he filled her again, his movements now slower, deeper, as if he wanted to savor every second. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling each thrust like a promise. — More — she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. — Harder. Daniel didn’t need any more encouragement. He flipped her onto her side, pulling one of her legs up, changing the angle again, and Lara felt as if he were touching places inside her that had never been reached before. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. — Come with me — he ordered, his voice strained, his fingers finding her clit once more. Lara couldn’t resist. The pleasure hit her like an explosion, making her cry out as her body clenched around him, pulling him into the abyss with her. Daniel groaned, his entire body tensing as he came inside her, his movements slowing, softening, until they both lay still, breathless, their bodies still joined. For a long moment, neither spoke. Lara felt his heart beating against her chest, their sweat mingling, the heat of their bodies still pulsing. She ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the dampness at the nape of his neck, as he buried his face in her neck, breathing deeply. — That — he murmured, his voice muffled — was even better than I imagined. Lara laughed, a soft and satisfied sound, as she held him tighter. — It’s not over yet — she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. Daniel lifted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with a new wave of desire. — No? — No — she replied, pulling him closer. — The night is still young. And as the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the curtains of room 1208, neither had any intention of sleeping. The first ray of sunlight wasn’t a warning, but an intrusion. A stubborn golden line that crept across the carpet, climbed the edge of the rumpled bed, and landed, like a curious finger, on Lara’s skin. She blinked, her lashes sticky with sleep and the sweat of the night before, and felt the weight of Daniel’s body still on hers—not in the frantic rhythm of their last encounters, but now still, as if time had decided to take a break. He breathed slowly, his warm breath against her shoulder, his arms still wrapped around her waist as if afraid that, if he let go, she would dissolve into the air. Lara moved her fingers slowly, tracing lazy circles on his back. The skin there was soft, marked by small scars—a thin line near his shoulder, perhaps from a childhood bike fall; another, deeper one near his ribs, which she hadn’t had time to ask about. Daniel murmured something incomprehensible and snuggled closer, his hip pressing against hers in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. She smiled, her lips brushing his forehead. — You’re awake — she said, her voice hoarse from sleep and hours of muffled moans against the pillow. — No — he grumbled, but the smile against her skin gave him away. — I’m still dreaming. — Dreaming of what? — Of a woman who woke me up in the middle of the night just to tell me I wasn’t doing it right. Lara let out a low laugh, her fingers sliding into his hair. — And were you? — Of course not. — He lifted his head, his eyes half-closed against the light now flooding the room. — But I got better. — Much better — she agreed, pulling him into a slow, lazy kiss, as if they had all the time in the world. His lips tasted of whiskey and something sweeter, something she couldn’t name. Maybe it was the taste of the night left behind. When they parted, Daniel rested his chin on her chest, watching her with an intensity that made her feel exposed, even after everything they had shared. — You need to leave — she said, before he could speak. It wasn’t a question, nor an order. Just a statement. — I know. — He didn’t move. — But I don’t want to. — Neither do I. A silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken words. The room smelled of sex and sweat, of rumpled sheets and expensive perfume mixed with the earthy scent of his skin. Lara closed her eyes for a moment, letting reality settle around her: the muffled sound of a service cart passing in the hallway, the hum of the air conditioning, the weight of his body on hers. It was real. And, at the same time, it already felt like a dream. — What are you going to do today? — Daniel asked, breaking the silence. — Take a taxi to the airport. Flight to São Paulo in three hours. — Business? — Always. — She sighed. — And you? — Band rehearsal in the afternoon. Then, probably, drink until I forget this night is over. Lara laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in the sound. — You won’t forget. — No. — He propped himself up on his elbows, looking at her with a seriousness that made her hold her breath. — And neither will you. She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Instead, she reached out and touched his face, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the stubble that lightly scratched. Daniel turned his face and kissed her palm, his lips warm and soft. — I should go — he murmured, but made no move to get up. — You should. — But I can’t. — I know. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, just looking at each other, as if trying to memorize every detail—the shape of each other’s eyes, the curve of their lips, the way the morning light painted shadows on their faces. Lara felt her heart beat slowly, as if it knew something was ending, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Finally, Daniel pulled away, rolling to the side with a groan. The cold air of the room hit her skin where his body had been, and Lara pulled the sheet up to her shoulders, suddenly aware of her nakedness. He sat on the edge of the bed, his bare feet on the carpet, and ran his hands over his face, as if trying to truly wake up. — I’m going to take a shower — he said, looking at her over his shoulder. — Coming? Lara hesitated. Part of her wanted to say yes, wanted to let the hot water wash away the sweat and exhaustion, wanted to feel his hands soaping her back, his lips kissing her neck as the steam enveloped them. But another part, the part that knew the night had to end, shook her head. — I already took a shower. Yesterday. — She forced a smile. — Before you got here. Daniel nodded, as if he understood. He stood up and walked to the chair where his clothes were strewn, picking up his jeans first. Lara watched the muscles in his back move as he dressed, the way his shoulders tensed as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. It wasn’t fair that someone could be so beautiful after a night like that. When he finished, he sat on the bed again, this time facing her. He took his phone from his pocket and quickly typed something before handing it to her. — My number — he said. — In case you ever pass through Porto Alegre. Lara took the phone, her fingers brushing against his. The contact was brief, but enough to make her stomach clench. She saved the number and handed the phone back, then leaned over to grab her purse from the nightstand. From inside, she pulled out a business card—white, with elegant black letters: *Lara Mendes, Marketing Director, Vanguard Group*. — In case you need an excuse to come to São Paulo — she said, handing it to him. Daniel took the card, his fingers brushing against hers on purpose this time. — I’ll keep it with care — he murmured, and she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. Then, he stood up. Lara did the same, pulling the sheet with her to cover her body as she walked to the door. Daniel stopped in front of her, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to memorize every detail. — I don’t want this to be goodbye — he said, his voice low. — It’s not — she replied, even though she knew it was a lie. He smiled, a sad and beautiful smile, and leaned in to kiss her. It was a different kiss from the others—slow, almost reverent, as if he were trying to hold onto her taste for later. Lara closed her eyes and let herself go, her fingers tangling in his hair one last time. When they parted, Daniel pressed his forehead against hers. — If you change your mind about the shower… — I won’t. He laughed, a soft and resigned sound. — I know. Then, he stepped back, opened the door, and walked out. Lara stood in the doorway, the sheet still wrapped around her body, watching as he walked down the hallway. He didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. The door closed with a soft click. Lara stayed there for a moment, listening to the sound of his footsteps fading, the noise of the elevator arriving, the doors opening and closing. Then, she went back inside the room and leaned against the door, letting the sheet fall to the floor. The room was exactly as they had left it—half-open curtains, rumpled bed, empty water bottles on the nightstand. She walked to the window and pulled the curtains all the way open, letting the sunlight flood the space. Outside, the city was already awake, cars honking, people hurrying on the sidewalks, the world moving forward as if nothing had happened. But something had happened. Lara took a deep breath and turned around, picking up Daniel’s card from the table. She ran her fingers over the handwritten number, feeling the slightly uneven ink, as if he had pressed the pen harder than necessary. Then, she tucked it into her purse, along with her own card, which now seemed to carry a different weight. She didn’t know if she would call him. She didn’t know if he would call her. But, for now, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that, for one night, they had lost themselves in each other in a way that neither time nor distance could erase. And that, she thought as she headed to the bathroom for a real shower, was more than most people ever had.