Risky Game With my Stepfather
Maya’s POV
The bar was quiet, hidden away from the city's external chaos. Shadows danced upon the polished wood under dim lighting while conversations blended softly with a slow haunting jazz melody from the speakers.
Seated in the most distant corner I traced the cool edge of my whiskey glass with my fingers while the golden liquid swirled lazily and ice clinked against the sides. The alcohol wasn’t going to fix anything.
I sighed, blinking against the sting in my eyes as I stared at the city lights through the large window beside me. Their outlines became indistinct through means other than alcohol.
My tears.
Do not let tears fall from your eyes.
The sensation in my throat transformed into a swallowed lump while I simultaneously clenched my teeth. My eyes remained dry in defiance of shedding tears for him again.
Throughout the three wasted years. His gaze remained distant and uncaring when he ended our relationship through a straightforward, emotionless declaration.
“I just don’t love you anymore. ”
I had given him everything. Every part of me, I have to him with no hesitation.
He left without any pause or reconsideration treating me as though I had been merely a brief distraction in his existence.
My jaw muscles locked tight while my fingers squeezed the glass, forcing myself to drink. The whiskey's heat seemed faint against the deeper heartache I felt.
My desire to experience any sensation except my current state overwhelmed me.
My gaze finally met another person.
A few stools away he sat, his quiet authority radiating without need for announcement.
His eyes scanned over his drink's rim in a calculating manner. He appeared to be in his late thirties or perhaps early forties. Refined. Composed. The way he moved reflected the demeanor of someone used to wielding power and maintaining control.
Dangerous.
My stomach tightened.
His attractiveness emerged through qualities beyond mere physical appearance.
His tailored suit's sharp cut stood against his broad shoulders while he claimed space with effortless confidence. He appeared as an untouchable figure who rejected all forms of unprofitable social engagements.
And then—he looked at me.
When our eyes connected the atmosphere transformed into something else.
An unnatural shiver crept slowly down my spine while an unspeakable exchange occurred between us. A silent acknowledgment a curiosity that neither of us looked away from.
The moment demanded that I avert my eyes but I failed to do so.
I should have turned away.
But I didn’t.
My hand raised the glass again to my lips which curled slightly as I tasted the drink. His dark gaze remained fixed on me in a steady unreadable manner.
The space separating us diminished gradually by tiny movements from both of us yet we both remained silent about it.
His voice shattered the silence into fragments.
"You look like you are trying to forget something ," he whispered in a voice both deep and smooth.
My body shifted as I turned to look into his eyes directly. Upon closer inspection his gorgeous facial features became even more visible . A sharp jawline combined with a faint stubble framed eyes that appeared to see my soul.
I asked my voice softer than I intended. “Is it that obvious?”
He tilted his glass slightly watching the way the ice shifted inside it. “To someone who knows the feeling. ”
“Hm.” I muttered while swirling my drink before setting it down on the bar, 'Then you know how pointless it is.'"
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Pointless? Perhaps. The only thing that keeps us alive is the deliberate act of forgetting. ”
I studied him my heart beating a little too fast a little.
“Is that why you’re here? ” I asked. “To forget? ”
A small smirk played on his lips.“Perhaps. ”
I leaned forward slightly resting my elbow on the counter. “And? Is it working? ”
His eyes flickered down to my lips before meeting my gaze again the smirk deepening. “Not yet. ”
A sensation of heat spiraled within my stomach.
This was dangerous. I should stop,but I want to see how far this can go.
Nevertheless, my actions remained unchanged and I did not retreat.
He didn’t ask for my name.
I didn’t ask for his.
This wasn’t about knowing.
It was about forgetting.
The distance separating us had vanished entirely his presence became overwhelmingly dominant while it intoxicated me beyond the capacity of any alcohol.
Heat waves emerged from his body while a spicy fragrance mingled with an enigmatic dark scent caused my pulse to falter.
At this moment my thoughts were directed elsewhere instead of focusing on him.
My thoughts never drifted to previous events nor my suffering nor the emptiness within my chest.
His voice drew me back into its spell through its intentional low tones.“He must have fucked up real bad if you are this desperate to forget him.”
I swallowed my breath hitching. “Yes. You can say that.”
His eyes locked onto mine with an intense stare while lust and hunger swirled behind his dark gaze. “And what if I said I could help with that? ”
His fingers barely touched mine on the bar counter creating an electric jolt that surged through my veins.
He adjusted his hand position to allow the coarse texture of his thumb pad to brush my knuckles in a touch so delicate and brief that it ignited a searing heat within my veins and my core.
In this dimly lit bar his intense gaze made me want.
I needed to feel something , something that was not rage, bitterness or sadness.
I needed to feel something, something I have denied myself for the past week.
Pleasure.
Then he leaned in.
A warm breath brushed my skin carrying whiskey scent, not in a way that made my stomach churn, but in a way that made my core flood and clench.
My body remained stiff.
My ability to move eluded me.
The world blurred.
“Can I?” He asked, his thumb gently brushing against my lips.
