Love me at your own risk

ARIA

Friday nights are for parties. But for me, this night was to celebrate my freedom.

It was a goodbye, goodbye to the job I hated for five years. Goodbye to all the bad things I did, even when I knew they were wrong. But I had no choice. I had to survive, after all.

Now I was celebrating my quitting at my boss’s club, Velvet Noir. This would be my last time coming here, and I wanted to celebrate it with the hottest guy in the club. Maybe by getting laid with him. After all, a one-night stand isn’t a big deal.

It wasn't just about feeling alive again, it's about doing something that had nothing to do with threats or cleaning up messes that could get me killed. I’d spent years under a boss who could have ended me if something went wrong. I’d always been careful. But tonight was the first time I could breathe without thinking about all that.

The music thumped in my chest as I walked into the club. Neon lights flashed over the crowd. The air smelled of sweat, perfume, and whiskey. My black dress clung to my skin and rose a little higher on my thighs with each step.

I was in the mood to hunt,to get laid by the hottest guy in the club.

That’s when I saw him, my catch. The hottest guy in the club tonight.

He was leaning against the bar like the crowd didn’t matter, one hand wrapped around a short glass of whiskey. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of chest, sleeves rolled to his elbows, veins and muscles catching the light. The stubble on his jaw made him look even rougher, like he hadn’t planned to be here at all.

He didn’t look like the party type.

And maybe that’s why I wanted him.

I slid up to the bar, ordered a drink, and let my shoulder brush his just enough to make him notice.

Not dancing?” I asked.

His eyes moved to mine, slow and steady.

“Not yet.”

“Waiting for the right song?” I smirked.

“Are you shy?” I asked again when he didn’t answer.

His mouth curved, almost a smile. “Do I look shy to you?”

I let my eyes run over him, from his face, to the way his shirt hugged his chest, then back to his gaze. “No. You look… dangerous.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Depends. Do you want it to be?”

He took a slow sip of his drink, never looking away. “Maybe.”

For a moment we just stood there. The noise of the club was still loud, but around us it felt quieter, like we were in our own space.

“So,” I said, tilting my head, “what’s your name?” I offered my hand.

He looked at it but didn’t shake. His eyes came back to mine. “You always walk up to strangers like this?”

“Only the ones I’m thinking about taking to bed.”

One of his brows lifted. “That’s bold.”

“I told you. I’m celebrating tonight.”

“What are you celebrating?”

“I quit my job.”

His eyes narrowed, studying me. “And you came here to…?”

“To have fun.” I smiled, leaning in closer. “You should try it sometime.”

“I don’t usually take advice from strangers,” he said.

“Maybe you should.” I sipped my drink, letting my eyes stay on his mouth. “Besides… I’m not a stranger anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean I know you.”

“Then get to know me.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he just kept staring, slow, deliberate.

“You’re staring,” I teased.

His mouth twitched. “Maybe I am.”

God, he was infuriating , in the best way. A man who didn’t hand out reactions easily made you want them more. And tonight, I was determined to get exactly what I wanted.

I slid my glass aside. “Dance with me.”

He didn’t move.

“That was not a question,” I added.

For a moment, I thought he’d refuse. Then he set his drink down and followed me into the crowd.

He staggered a little, and that’s when I realized he was drunk, just trying to control himself.

The music swallowed us whole , the bass, the lights, the heat of bodies pressing in from every side. I turned to face him, letting my hips find the rhythm, moving close enough for our arms to brush. His hands stayed at his sides, but his eyes… his eyes were all over me.

“Still not having fun?” I asked over the music.

“You’re getting there.”

“Getting there?” I laughed. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

I moved in closer, letting my body align with his, the heat of him bleeding into me. My fingers brushed his chest.

His breath hitched, so quick I almost missed it.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured.

“I warned you.”

The next song shook the floor, and I touched his collar, my fingers brushing his warm skin. For a moment, he lost control, his hands grabbing my waist, tight enough to make my heart race.”

“You’re not drunk enough to blame this on the whiskey,” I said.

His gaze dropped to my lips. “Not yet.”

“We kept dancing until the crowd around us felt like shadows. My skin was warm from his touch, from the way his hands moved, sometimes gentle, sometimes strong.”

When the song shifted to something slower, I leaned up, my mouth brushing his ear.

“Let’s not waste the night.”

His jaw tightened. “Where?”

I tilted my head toward the far side of the club. “They have a hotel upstairs.”

He hesitated. I could feel it , the part of him that didn’t give in easily. But when I took his hand and started walking, he didn’t let go.

The elevator ride was silent. He stood close enough that his shoulder brushed mine, close enough that I could smell the faint spice of his cologne over the lingering scent of whiskey.

When we reached the room, I swiped the key card, pushed the door open, and turned to face him.

“You sure about this?” I asked.

His reply was a low, steady, “Yes.”

That was all I needed.

What happened next is something I can’t forget , not the way he looked at me like he was memorizing the moment,.

Shall we kiss before we start?" I asked, and He willingly turned to me with a smile.

I wrapped my hands around his neck, and he moved in to kiss me. He smiled, not doing anything but letting me do the work. I opened my mouth and he let me slowly explore inside, although it didn't take long for him to use his own and respond. Our tongues played tag and the kiss became more heated. The temperature was rising to a boiling point.

Every touch was slow, every movement deliberate,

He held me and he lifted me up without breaking the kiss. He moved towards the bed, and he put his hand inside me, his fingers exploring me as our lips parted. He whispered," Shall we undress each other?"

I got the message and stood up and started undressing him slowly. In no time we were both on the bed completely naked.

He kissed down my chest, dragging his tongue along the sensitive skin just to hear me whimper.

My back arched off the sheets as he tasted me, teased me, and made me forget how to breathe.

My fingers clutched the sheets,my hips rising to meet his with need.

When he finally slid inside me, I gasped, tight, warm, and perfect.

We both froze.

My eyes locked onto his.

And he moved.

Slow at first.

Measured.

Deep.

My lips parted in a moan as my body met his, rhythm syncing like we were made for this.

My nails raked lightly down his back, and he couldn’t hold back the groan that escaped him.

He kissed me with every thrust.

Letting me feel how much he wanted me.

We were skin on skin.

Completely bare.

"Do you want me to go faster, baby girl?"

"Deeper?" I moaned.

"Please."

"Your word is my command, baby girl," he declared and started ravaging me, and I gasped and arched into him.

And then,we finally came,trembling, gasping ,and finally collapsed into each other.

DAMIEN

The first thing I felt was the pounding in my skull.

The second thing… was the emptiness beside me.

The memory hit hard, heat pooling low in my stomach.I sat up, running both hands through my hair.

No note. No name. Just gone.

And the worst part? I didn't even know her name.Only fragments,the way her lips felt, the heat of her skin.I ran a hand through my hair, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. The scent of her perfume still lingered in the air, soft and intoxicating, pulling me back to the way she’d looked at me… like she knew exactly what she was doing.

I should be relieved she was gone. No awkward goodbyes. No morning-after explanations.

But instead, I felt this strange pull.

I wanted to see her again.

Not just to put a name to the face, but to figure her out. Who she was. Why, even now, when I should be regretting last night, all I could think about was finding her.I should have asked for her name or her contact.

“D*mn it…” I muttered, dragging my phone closer. Not a number. Not a note. Nothing.

She was a stranger… and I was already wishing she wasn’t.

Who the hell was she?

DAMIEN

Who the hell was she?

I’ve never lost control like I did last night. Not with a stranger. Not ever. And yet, here I am, replaying it in my head like some fool who should’ve known better. And the worst part is, I didn’t really know who she was.

She could’ve been anyone, a spy, someone sent to dig information out of me. God, what if she was? If that’s all it took to make me crack, then I’m no better than the men I chase. I’ve built my whole career on control, on keeping secrets locking tight… but last night, I just,let go.

This week had been a mess from the start. First, I lost the Thompson case. I’d poured months into tracking that gang, piecing together every clue, and then, at the last minute, the captain pulled it from me, handed it over to Detective Marks. Said it was for “strategic reasons,” but everyone knew it was politics.

I was still chewing on that when my father called. Not to ask how I was holding up, not to offer a word of support , n