Retrograde Lover

Why is it so dark...?

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I feel like I’m floating...

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I can’t feel my body...

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..

...

The deep, masculine voice continued to mutter in the pitch-black void until a blinding light suddenly pulled the man into consciousness.

Even with his eyelids pressed shut, the sudden glare managed to blind him. His face grimaced as he slowly forced his eyes open, greeted by a warm alabaster ceiling adorned with a copper-brown chandelier and floral-shaped lights. Outside, birds chirped softly, the sound drifting through an elegantly designed, half-open window.

As his awareness fully returned, a heavy sensation pressed down on his chest.

Am I dead? Has my heart stopped? he thought.

Groggily, he tilted his head. His vision remained slightly blurred from his sudden awakening, but he managed to focus on a silhouette resting against his bare skin. The stranger breathed softly, her gentle exhalations tickling his collarbone.

Who is this...? he muttered to himself.

As if sensing he was awake, the woman slowly raised her head, looking him dead in the eyes. Her soft, orange hair flowed smoothly down to her cream-toned waist. Her skin was flawless, and her pink lips naturally formed a subtle heart shape. Beneath the morning sun passing through the window, her emerald-green eyes gleamed, light gently kissing both of their faces.

“Good morning, my love,” she said in a soft, feminine voice that sounded like a purring cat.

My love? Who is she... Where am I? More importantly, who am I? he thought.

“My love? Is there something wrong?” she asked gently, tilting her head.

The man chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around her soft waist to pull her plush body closer. “Nothing... I was just mesmerized by you.”

“Oh, you~ Always so cheesy~” The woman giggled, her bare breasts shifting slightly as she pressed her weight tightly against his side.

Good. I need to establish a connection to keep her from becoming suspicious, he calculated. He reached up and gently caressed her delicate cheek, making her to close her eyes and purr contentedly against his palm.

With her completely distracted by his touch, his eyes immediately began to scan the environment like a detective profiling a crime scene. I need to find a way to discover my identity. Any piece of identification... A wallet, pockets, drawers, cabinets... anything.

As he continued to stroke her cheek, a sudden pang of deep soreness radiated through his nether regions—as if he had been hit by a truck, but entirely below the waist.

Curious, he slowly pulled his hand away from her face and lifted the crisp white sheets covering their lower halves. Underneath, both of them were completely bare, surrounded by a distinct, musky scent and the telltale traces of an intense, passionate night.

Did she and I...? he thought, connecting the dots.

The woman tilted her head, looking up at him with a satisfied glow. “I really enjoyed last night, my love.”

“I’m glad you did, sweetheart,” he replied smoothly. He chuckled softly, planting a tender kiss on her forehead to maintain his cover.

Perfect. I can use this to my advantage, he calculated. Leaning in close, he brushed his lips against her ear and whispered softly, “Why don’t we go take a shower together?”

Before she could even answer, he slid his lips down to press a warm kiss against the sensitive skin of her neck, eliciting a soft, breathless moan from her.

“Of course,” she purred, completely yielding to his suggestion.

The woman slowly sat up, stretching her arms high above her head with her eyes closed. Her back arched slightly, a soft groan of relief escaping her lips. The motion naturally pushed her breasts forward, emphasizing her striking hourglass figure in the morning light.

He watched her, observing every movement closely while carefully maintaining a gentle, relaxed expression on his face.

She called me ‘my love’ earlier, yet... He looked down at his fingers and hers, then shifted his gaze to the polished, white-painted wooden dresser beside the bed. ...No rings. Not on me or her, and not on the counter. So she might just be a fling or a girlfriend.

Once she finished stretching, she reluctantly untangled herself from his side and slid out of the bed, walking over to his side. “Let’s go!” she said cheerfully, her playful attitude making her look incredibly endearing despite her sensual silhouette.

The man shook his head, offering a low chuckle. “You’re so cute,” he said smoothly. He tossed the crisp sheets aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

As the woman happily walked through the wooden doorway leading to the bathroom and disappeared from sight, he took the opportunity to fully analyze his surroundings.

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A white, polished wardrobe—matching the style of the dresser—stood at the far edge of the room. In one corner, a tall floor lamp cast a warm, golden hue, while a smaller matching lamp rested on the bedside table. Near the wardrobe sat a sleek, low wooden console table, and right beside it was a mahogany chair. Slung carelessly over the backrest of the chair were two pairs of clothes: a pair of skinny jeans and a much larger set of trousers.

With each step he took toward the doorway, the polished floorboards beneath his bare feet gave off a soft, muffled thump.

I’m likely in a high-end apartment or a luxury hotel room, he calculated, his eyes scanning the area even more thoroughly. But there are no phones in sight. Not even a landline.

He shot a quick, vigilant glance toward the bathroom doorway before pivoting toward the mahogany chair. Moving silently, he reached out, lifted the first pair of trousers, and swiftly patted down the pockets. Empty. He discarded them and repeated the process with the skinny jeans. Nothing.

Interesting. No phones in the pockets, no devices on the nightstand, he noted, his brow furrowing slightly.

If I were me... where would I put my phone? he questioned, trying to force his blank mind to spark an instinct.

Stepping over to the dresser, he systematically slid open the drawers. On the first level, he found only neatly folded undergarments—elegant lace panties on the right side and masculine boxer briefs on the left, perfectly separated and arranged.

The second drawer revealed rows of plain t-shirts in various colors, mirroring the exact organizational layout of the first: larger shirts on the left, smaller ones on the right.

He pulled open the third drawer, which contained stacks of casual trousers identical to the ones slung over the chair. At the very bottom rested pristine pairs of black and white socks, rolled into tight, orderly spheres.

He closed the final drawer with a soft click, nodding in quiet acknowledgement. I see. Not only is she stunning, but she’s meticulous too... assuming she was the one who organized this.

He paused, catching the soft, melodic hum of the woman drifting through the bathroom doorway.

Glancing at the tall wardrobe, he immediately dismissed it. It would be stupid to hide a phone in there. It’s too deep, and a device used daily would easily get lost in the clutter.

Instead, his gaze locked onto the pristine white pillows. They rested against the wooden headboard, appearing as soft as clouds. He crept toward the bed, carefully lifting each pillow and giving them a calculated squeeze to check for any hidden hardware. Finding nothing, he meticulously fluffed them back into position, ensuring they looked entirely untouched.

Dropping to his knees, he crouched beside the frame and peered underneath.

Bingo.

Tucked away on the floor boards were two devices. One sported a sleek black casing with a rugged metallic trim, while the other was encased in a soft purple shell adorned with delicate floral patterns.

He slid the black phone into his palm and pressed the power button. The screen remained pitch black. Dead.

Flipping it over, he grabbed the purple phone and hit the switch. Nothing. The glass face stayed stubbornly dark.

Both batteries are completely drained, he calculated, his eyes immediately scanning the baseboards and outlets. I need a charger. Fast.

Before he could scan the baseboards any further, a soft voice drifted through the steam, shattering the silence.

“My love?” the woman called out.

“Coming!” he replied instantly, his voice dripping with easy warmth as his body automatically shifted gears.

Moving with silent speed, he slipped through the wooden doorway, smoothly closing the bathroom door behind him with a soft click.

“What took you so long?” she asked. There wasn’t a hint of annoyance in her voice—just genuine curiosity. She was standing in front of the mirror, her delicate hands resting against the edge of the porcelain sink.

The man rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile forming on his face. “Sorry, sweetheart. I was just doing some quick stretches. My body feels incredibly sore from last night.”

The woman chuckled softly, her emerald eyes half-lidded as a slow, knowing grin spread across her lips. “That’s because you were a brute last night. Even I’m a little sore... but don’t worry, I can manage. I can still walk properly.”

He stepped closer, closing the distance between them. Reaching out, he leaned down and kissed her softly, their eyes fluttering shut for a brief, warm moment before he pulled away. “Sorry...”

The woman smiled tenderly, shaking her head as she looked up at him. “You don’t have to apologize. We both wanted it.”

She shifted her gaze toward the shower area, where elegant champagne curtains with golden bands hung from a polished metal bar. The drapes were already pulled aside, revealing a sleek silver shower head, a polished metallic dial below it, and a heavy chrome hose connecting the fixtures.

“Shall we?” she asked softly.

He smiled smoothly. “Yeah.”

To Be Continued...