No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 33

**Chapter 33: A Handsome Stranger Named Hookup**

+5 Pearls

Just as the stranger’s hand was about to make contact with Amelia’s shoulder, a sudden force intervened. A firm grip seized the man’s wrist, halting him in his tracks.

He gasped in surprise, turning around with anger flaring in his eyes, only to be met by a pair of piercing, icy blue eyes that seemed to cut through the darkness of the hallway.

A tall figure loomed behind him, exuding an aura of authority that made the air feel heavier. The man’s presence was commanding, as if he had stepped out of a different world, one where weakness was not tolerated. His thin lips parted, and the words that followed were like shards of ice, “Get lost. Don’t touch her.”

The pickup artist, who had been so confident moments before, now felt a wave of dread wash over him. He took in the expensive suit that hugged the tall man’s frame and the intensity of his gaze, realizing that he had crossed a line he should never have approached.

His throat tightened, and without another word, he released Amelia and scuttled away, disappearing around the bend of the hallway like a shadow fleeing the light.

Amelia leaned against the cold, unforgiving wall, finally finding something solid to anchor herself. The world around her felt like it was spinning, her mind a swirling fog of confusion and alcohol-induced haze.

She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation and focus on the man who had come to her rescue.

The dim light in the hallway made it difficult to see him clearly; his features were obscured, a mere silhouette against the shadows. Yet, there was something undeniably calming about his presence. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she experienced a flicker of safety.

It was a peculiar sensation, one that made her heart flutter. The scent that surrounded him was foreign, yet it stirred an instinct within her to let her guard down, to surrender to the moment without hesitation.

Perhaps it was the alcohol coursing through her veins that emboldened her.

Suddenly, a laugh escaped her lips, light and airy. She grasped the wall for support, her small, flushed face tilting up to meet his gaze as she spoke softly, “You… Not bad. My type.”

Just as she felt the ground beneath her shift, a strong arm wrapped around her, steadying her.

Mason looked down at the woman who had nearly collapsed in his arms, his brow furrowed with concern and annoyance. His deep voice cut through the air, laced with irritation, “How much did you drink?”

“Mmm… A lot…” Amelia mumbled, her words slurring together as she squirmed in his embrace. She held up all five fingers in front of him, her expression a mix of mischief and drunken clarity. “Hey, I’m drunk. You look like you’ve got great muscles… Can I touch them?”

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