His mouth was hot and demanding against mine, tasting of expensive whiskey the only time I’ve ever enjoyed whiskey, I moaned into the kiss, my fingers tightening in his shirt as his tongue swept past my lips. The hand at my waist slid lower, gripping my ass hard enough to make me gasp.

Fuck.

I should have pulled away. Should have remembered the danger, the lies, the life waiting for me tomorrow. But his other hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss, and all rational thought burned away.

He broke the kiss just long enough to growl against my mouth, "You taste even better than you look."

His hand slid around my throat from behind not squeezing, just possessive. Hot breath hit my ear. "You smell so addictive, sweetheart." He growled and I could feel the shiver move up my spine. So this is what it felt like to be desired as a woman.

I turned in his grip to face him fully. Up close, he had a scar that cut through his eyebrow,

Before I could respond, he spun me around, pressing my back against the nearest wall.

His body caged me in, all hard muscle and barely restrained self control. I could feel how hard he was already, the thick outline of him straining against his slacks. "You're playing with fire."

I rocked against him, biting back a moan as the friction sent sparks through me. "Then burn me." The music loud around us, the bass vibrating through my chest as his lips found my neck, teeth scraping over my pounding pulse.

I should stop this.

I don't want to.

"You don't want me to walk away." His knee nudged my thighs apart. "You want to see how bad I can ruin you.", The rough drag of his thigh against my center made my head fall back. Drawing a whimper out of my throat. I rocked against him shamelessly, the thin fabric of my dress doing nothing to hide how wet l was.

His knee slid between my thighs, the pressure just right as I rocked against him. A ragged moan escaped me, drowned out by the music. His chuckle vibrated against my skin, one hand sliding up my side to brush the underside of my breast through the thin fabric of my dress.

"Tell me to stop," he challenged, his breath hot against my ear.

I grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand higher.

"Don't you fucking dare."

His answering growl sent heat straight to my core.

Then the world tilted as he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me toward the shadowy hallway leading to the VIP rooms. His mouth crashed back onto mine, hungry and possessive while his hands gripped my thighs hard enough to leave bruises.

Tomorrow, I'll pay for this.

Tonight, I'll take everything he's offering.

The private lounge door barely clicked shut before I was on him, my fingers tearing at his suit buttons as he backed me against the leather couch. His growl vibrated against my lips half warning, half praise as he spanked my ass.

one of his hands fisted in my hair, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. His mouth crashed against mine, I moaned into the kiss, my fingers still scrambling at the buttons of his dress shirt,

desperate to feel skin.

"Fuck," he growled against my lips when I ripped the third button free. "Someone's eager."

I bit his lower lip in response, sucking away when he groaned. His hands slid under my dress, calloused palms rough against my bare thighs as he lifted me. My back hit the wall, the cool surface a shock against my overheated skin.

"My wildcat," he muttered, grinding his hips against mine. The hard length of him pressed exactly where I needed it most, drawing a whimper from my throat. I loved the nickname and it was affecting me more than I was willing to admit.

I dragged my mouth along his stubbled jaw, nipping at the muscle of his neck. He hissed when my teeth , sunk into his neck the taste of his blood of lip.

"Christ, woman," he groaned, his hands tightening on my thighs hard enough to bruise. "You'll be the fucking death of me."

I laughed against his skin, drunk on how his body shivered and reacted to me and the way his cock strained against his slacks. "Promises, promises-"

"Christ, you bite like a fucking wildcat," he panted, rolling his hips again.

My fingers slipped from his collar. I was about to retort when the room tilted violently. The drugs and alcohol l'd forgotten about surged through my system, making my limbs weak. My head rolled against his shoulder as darkness crept into the edges of my vision.

"Hey—" His arm hooked around my waist.

"What's-"

"Hey—" His voice sounded far away. "Look at me."

I tried. God, I tried. But the world faded to black, my last conscious thought was the feel of his arms tightening around me as I went limp in his hold and his chest rumbling against my cheek as he cursed.

I woke up pressed against something warm.

A heavy arm was layed over my waist with fingers splayed possessively across my bare stomach. Hot breath tickled the back of my neck. The memories of last night came rushing back whiskey, dancing, him.

My heart started racing.

I carefully turned my head just enough to see him.

his face looked softer while he was asleep. I had to resist the urge to run my hands through his dark messy hair. I took my time to memorize his features

the faint scar cutting through one dark eyebrow. His lips were slightly parted, his breathing deep and even. He was beautiful. Dangerous. A complete stranger.

Oh God.

I froze as his arm tightened around me in sleep, pulling me back against his chest. His skin was warm against mine, his body hard in all the places I was soft. A flutter low in my belly betrayed me but I shoved it down.

Stupid. So stupid.

Gritting my teeth, I slowly peeled his arm away, slipping out from under him. The sheets rustled, and I held my breath as he murmured something in his sleep, his hand flexing where I’d been.

I didn’t wait to see if he’d wake.

My dress was crumpled on the floor, the silky black fabric still damp with sweat from last night. I snatched it up, then paused.

How do I get home like this?

Think. Think.

My eyes darted to where his suit jacket hung over a chair male clothes.

A reckless idea took hold. Sorry stranger I whispered but I have to make it out alive.

I yanked the dress on backward, twisting the fabric tight around my chest until it flattened my curves. It pinched, but it would work. Then I grabbed his shirt, buttoning it quickly over my makeshift binder.

rolling up the sleeves. His jacket swallowed me whole. But honestly that was the least of my problems.

I checked the mirror.

A young man looked back at me. Messy hair and cold eyes. Perfect

I took one last look at the man still sleeping in the bed his dark hair mussed and the sheets dangerously low on his hips

and then I bolted.

The door clicked shut behind me.

I didn't look back.