She twists in the chair, just enough to face me. The shift pulls a few strands of golden brown hair loose, sliding free to frame her cheek. Her gaze lifts, meeting mine for the first time, and it hits me like a gut punch. I fall into a pool of deep chocolate. The rest of the bar might as well not exist. The low hum of voices, the clink of glass, the muted bass under the music. It all fades until there is only her.

I take her in. The curve of her cheek down to her throat, slow enough to memorize the exact slope. Her skin looks soft, and I want to bruise it beneath my touch. That mouth…full, pink, the bottom lip just barely caught between her teeth as she looks at me tentatively. I want to free it. I want to feel it drag against mine.

Heat coils low in my gut, sharpened by the rage still simmering from watching that asshole try to touch her. My hands ache to break something. To break him. The only thing stopping me from dragging that asshole into the alley is the girl in front of me. She doesn’t even realize she has that kind of hold on me yet.

I stand close enough that I can watch the rise and fall of her breathing. Close enough to smell faint lavender beneath the sharper scent of liquor clinging to the air between us.

The small tremor in her fingers catches my attention, and I don’t know if I want to soothe it or feed it until she’s shaking for an entirely different reason.

There’s something painfully innocent in the way she looks at me. Not naïve, but unguarded. It makes my hands curl into fists at my sides. She has no idea how dangerous it is for her to look at me like that.

I’m the last thing she needs right now, but I am far too selfish to walk away.

I search her face for even the smallest sign she wants me gone. A flinch. A glance toward the door. Nothing. She just keeps holding my gaze, and it has me stepping in without thought, closing the distance an inch at a time.

There’s a faint rim of red around her eyes, the smudge of mascara under one. My stomach tightens, anger pulsing through me like a second heartbeat.

“Who the fuck made you cry?”

Her lips twitch like she might laugh, but the sound that escapes is empty, stripped of any warmth. I hate it. I want to know what her real laugh sounds like. I want to be the one to pull it from her until she forgets every reason she ever had to cry.

Her laugh dies fast, the corners of her mouth falling almost as soon as they lift. Tears pool on her bottom lashes, and I move before I can think. My hand comes up, palm cupping her cheek, thumb brushing away the dampness gathering there.

Her skin is warm under my touch, and my chest aches with the need to hold her until she lets me take every ounce of her hurt.

I’m too close. Too intimate for someone I just met, but like hell I’m stepping back.

“Just tell me who made you cry like this, and I promise they’ll never get the chance again.”

A faint sardonic curve tips her lips that tells me she thinks I’m joking.

I’m not. Not even a little.

“It really hasn’t been my night,” she says finally and huffs out a sigh as though giving up. “Turns out my fiancé’s cheating on me.”

“He’s a fucking idiot.” My teeth clench together as I grind the words out and force myself to drop my hand.

“Yeah…” She closes her eyes, her mouth twisting as she takes several breaths before looking right at me and says, defeated, “I wish I would’ve realized that before I walked in on him bending a blonde over his desk.”

Heat floods my veins. Not the good kind. The kind that makes me itch for violence. I picture him, faceless, and I want to break him apart for hurting her.

Never again. Never fucking again.

A low growl forms at the back of my throat. She doesn’t hear it, just continuing with a shrug.

“Then that creepy guy came and talked to me. Then you…” Her breath hitches, gaze widening.

“Me?” I lean in, needing to hear her say whatever comes next.

The tip of her tongue drags along her bottom lip, slow and distracting.

“I guess you’re not so bad,” she says with a hint of humor, her posture straightening, chin tilted up in challenge.

Not so bad.

A spark, like a lit match, shines back at me, and it hits me like a blow to the chest. I’m slammed with the need to have her under me, those wide eyes going dark with lust.

I step closer until her knees press lightly against my own, and her hands find my chest, and I revel in the way her nails curl into my shirt.

I lower my mouth to her ear, my voice a low rasp, and stroke the flame of her defiance. “Do you want to get him back? Do you want to be the one fucking somebody else, screaming somebody else’s name?”

She gasps, snapping back, but she doesn’t glance away. I can see the war playing out, every thought pulling her one way, then the other.

Satisfaction drips slow and hot through me. She’s thinking about it. Thinking about me.

I want to own every thought in her head until there’s no space left for that asshole’s name. Until there’s no space left for anything but me.

I dip closer, holding her jaw between my thumb and forefinger. “I can make you forget. Make your body burn until you can’t remember his name. Come on, pretty girl. Use me. Take what you want.”

The blush that spreads across her cheeks is soft, but the heat in her eyes isn’t. She bites her bottom lip like she’s trying to keep herself in check.

I want to take that lip from her teeth, feel the drag of it against my tongue, but I don’t. Not yet.

Her head tilts slightly, and she searches me for any hint of a lie. I let her see the truth. I mean every word. I want her to know exactly what I’m offering.

She swallows, fingers twisting together in her lap, then presses her thighs together in a way that makes my blood thrum. The flush deepens, creeping down her throat, and I imagine following it with my mouth.

The way she’d taste on my tongue.

Finally, she looks at me with those wide, innocent eyes. The ones that make me feel like I’d burn down the world just to keep her looking at me like that.

She nods.

My tongue scrapes hard against my teeth as I forcefully hold myself back. “I’m going to need more than that, pretty girl.”

“Okay.”

Fuck me.

It’s barely more than a whisper, but it nearly levels me. My hand comes down on the counter to steady myself, my head lowering until my nose brushes hers.

I am so hard I could take her right here, splayed out on this hotel bar, with everyone watching. Until her body is ruined for anyone else but me.

Her breath mingles with mine, warm and quick. I want to push that skirt up, slide into her, and make good on every word I’ve promised.

But I can be patient. Tonight, I want the build. I want to haunt her every thought, consume them with my hands, my mouth, my voice in her ear. I want her restless, needy for a fix that only I can give.

So I ease back just enough to see her face fully. The pink in her cheeks. The faint parting of her lips. Her dazed, hungry look. All mine.

I let my thumb trace her jaw, slow enough to keep her in this moment with me. “I’m going to take my time, worship you until your mind goes blank and the only thing you can think about is how full you are with me inside of you.”

Her lips part, like she’s about to say something, but I don’t give her the chance. “Come upstairs with me,” I murmur, the words low enough that only she can hear.

She shivers, and I tighten my grip. “Let me ruin you for him. For anyone.”

When she exhales, it’s shaky, like she’s already said yes in her head. I step closer, crowding her, my voice a dark promise against her skin.

“Say yes, pretty girl, and I’ll give you everything I just promised before the night is over.”

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