Tom's mind drifted through the fog of a restless sleep, anchored only by the warm weight nestled beside him. His body stirred, sluggish and unwilling, as his consciousness clawed its way back to reality. The first sensation that greeted him was a soft, feminine scent—floral and sweet, mingling with something faintly musky. It wasn’t the scent of his girlfriend, Katie. That realization cut through the haze, bringing with it a sudden jolt of awareness.
He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the early morning light filtering through the curtains. The room wasn’t his. The furniture was arranged differently, the colors all wrong. He lifted his head slightly, the fog of sleep lifting just enough to register where he was: Jessica's room. The guest room. His heart pounded as his gaze slid down to the body lying beside him, the events of the previous night crashing down on him like a tidal wave.
Jessica lay on her side, her back to him, the thin sheet pulled up just high enough to cover her bare shoulders. Her hair, still damp from what he assumed was a late-night shower, cascaded over the pillow in a tousled mess of strands that gleamed faintly in the sunlight. Tom's breath caught in his throat as he slowly began to process what he had done.
Oh God... His thoughts raced, but his body felt paralyzed, as if moving would make the reality of the situation even worse. He tried to piece together the events that had led him here, but it was all a blur of heated emotions, conflicting desires, and that look in Jessica’s eyes—a mixture of vulnerability and something else, something that had drawn him in despite every rational thought telling him to resist.
Careful not to disturb her, Tom eased himself out of the bed, each movement slow and deliberate. His heart hammered in his chest as he sat on the edge, his mind a maelstrom of panic and regret. What have I done? He ran a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to panic.
He needed to get out of here. Katie could be home any minute! He glanced around the room, searching for his clothes. They were scattered haphazardly across the floor, remnants of a night that now felt like a fever dream. His pants were closest, tangled around one of the legs of a chair. He leaned over, reaching for them, but his hand froze mid-air.
A soft, sleepy groan came from behind him, and he turned his head just enough to see Jessica beginning to stir. She stretched, arching her back and pushing the sheet down in the process. Tom's breath hitched as more of her body was revealed, her smooth, pale skin catching the light in a way that made his mouth go dry. Her movements were languid, cat-like, as she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes, blinking up at the ceiling with a drowsy smile.
“Morning,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep. She turned her head, her blue eyes finding his with a look that was equal parts sleepy contentment and playful mischief. “Didn’t expect you to be awake so early.”
Tom's stomach twisted with guilt. She’s acting like this is normal, he thought, panic rising in his chest. How could she be so calm? So… casual? He swallowed hard, his voice coming out strained. “Jessica, we… we shouldn’t have… I mean, last night—”
“Was fun,” she finished for him, her smile widening as she propped herself up on her elbows. The sheet slipped further down her body, and Tom’s eyes were drawn, despite himself, to the way her breasts swelled slightly beneath the fabric, more prominent than they had been before. He tore his gaze away, but the damage was done. The memory of how her body had felt against his, of how she had responded to his touch, was seared into his mind.
“I mean… we shouldn’t have,” he repeated, his tone more insistent this time, though it sounded weak even to his own ears. His hands fumbled as he finally grabbed his pants and began pulling them on, his movements frantic and clumsy.
Jessica watched him with a bemused expression, her head tilted slightly to the side. “You’re worried about Katie,” she said, her tone more understanding now, though there was still that playful edge to it. “But she doesn’t have to know. This… can be our little secret.”
Tom hesitated, his heart pounding even harder at her words. Our little secret. It sounded so tempting, so easy. But the reality was far from it. How could he look Katie in the eyes knowing what he’d done? How could he live with himself?
He forced his thoughts to focus on the present—on getting out of this room before he did something else he’d regret. He stood up, his pants only half-buttoned, and scanned the room for his shirt. It was nowhere to be seen. His frustration grew as he realized he might have to ask Jessica where it was, but she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to help him.
In fact, she seemed to be taking her time, stretching again before finally sitting up fully. The sheet slipped further down, and Tom's breath caught once more as he noticed something different about her. Her breasts were definitely fuller, rounder, pressing against the thin material of the sheet in a way that was impossible to ignore. And as she moved to stand, he couldn’t help but notice the way her hips had gained a subtle but noticeable curve, her legs looking just a little longer than he remembered.
He tried to push the thoughts away, tried to convince himself that it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but the evidence was right in front of him. The serum. The realization hit him like a brick. The serum he’d left out… the one Jessica had been using, thinking it was shampoo. It was still working on her.
Jessica stood up, the sheet falling to the floor as she moved to her dresser. Tom couldn’t tear his eyes away, even as his mind screamed at him to look elsewhere. She was taller—he was sure of it now. Not by much, but enough that it was noticeable, especially as she reached for her bra. She struggled with it for a moment, her fingers fumbling with the clasp, and Tom’s suspicions were confirmed when she let out a frustrated huff.
“Ugh, why is this so tight all of a sudden?” she muttered, her tone light, as if it were just a minor inconvenience. She turned slightly, giving Tom an even better view of her backside, which had also filled out more than he remembered. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.
Jessica noticed him staring and grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Like what you see?” she teased, finally managing to hook the bra in place, though it was clearly straining to contain her newly developed assets. She adjusted the straps, giving a little wiggle that made Tom’s pulse quicken against his will.
He tore his gaze away, his face burning with shame and something else—something he didn’t want to acknowledge. “I… I need to go,” he mumbled, finally spotting his shirt half-hidden under the bed. He dropped to his knees to retrieve it, using the moment to collect himself, to push down the rising tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
As he pulled the shirt over his head, he felt Jessica’s presence behind him, closer than he was comfortable with. Her hand brushed his shoulder, and he tensed, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she leaned in, her breath warm against his ear.
“Tom,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent. “You don’t have to feel guilty about this. Katie… she doesn’t treat you the way you deserve. You know that, right?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, his hands balling into fists as he fought to keep his emotions in check. “This was a mistake,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We… we can’t do this again.”
Jessica’s hand slipped down his arm, her fingers curling around his wrist. “Maybe,” she conceded, though her tone suggested she wasn’t convinced. “But I don’t regret it. And… I don’t think you do either.”
Tom pulled away, standing up quickly and putting some much-needed distance between them. He couldn’t afford to stay here any longer, not with Katie’s return imminent. The guilt gnawed at him, but Jessica’s words lingered in his mind, feeding the doubts that had been growing there for months.
He needed to get out, clear his head, figure out what to do next. Without another word, he grabbed his shoes and headed for the door, not trusting himself to look back. Jessica didn’t try to stop him, but he could feel her eyes on him, the weight of her gaze almost as tangible as a touch.
As he reached for the doorknob, he hesitated, a thousand conflicting emotions warring within him. He had to get out before Katie came home. He had to think—about the serum, about Jessica, about everything.
But as he stepped out into the hallway, the door closing softly behind him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were only going to get more complicated from here.
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