**Chapter 1: The Spark of Betrayal**
I’ve always been the kind of woman who knows what she wants. Matt, my steady, sweet boyfriend of three years, is the safe harbor I return to after every storm. But lately, the calm has felt more like stagnation. I’m not one to settle for ‘good enough,’ and that’s why, when Reagan walked into my life, all sharp edges and smoldering smirks, I knew I was in trouble.
Reagan’s the new bartender at the dive bar I frequent after long shifts at the gallery. He’s got this way of looking at you—like he’s already undressed you in his mind and liked what he saw. Last night, I lingered at the bar longer than usual, nursing a whiskey sour, when he leaned in close, wiping down the counter with a rag that had no business looking so damn seductive in his hands.
‘So, Jade,’ he drawled, voice low and rough like gravel under tires, ‘you gonna keep pretending you’re not staring at me, or are we gonna do something about it?’
I smirked, twirling the straw in my drink. ‘Bold assumption, bartender. What makes you think I’m interested?’
He chuckled, dark eyes glinting with mischief. ‘Oh, darlin’, your eyes are screaming it. And I’m fluent in that language.’
I should’ve walked away. Should’ve thought of Matt’s soft smile waiting for me at home. But the heat in Reagan’s gaze was a match to the dry kindling of my boredom, and I wanted to burn. ‘Is that so?’ I shot back, leaning forward just enough to give him a view down my low-cut top. ‘Then translate this: I don’t play games I can’t win.’
‘Good,’ he said, tossing the rag aside and stepping out from behind the bar. ‘Because I’m not playing either.’ He nodded toward the back door, a silent invitation. My heart raced, but my steps were steady as I followed him out into the alley, the cool night air doing nothing to douse the fire building inside me.
The moment the door clicked shut, he was on me, backing me against the brick wall with a hunger that matched my own. ‘You’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,’ he growled, his hands gripping my hips with a possessiveness that made my breath hitch.
‘Then stop talking and show me,’ I challenged, my voice sharp even as my body arched into his touch. His lips crashed into mine, all heat and demand, and I kissed him back just as hard, my fingers tangling in his hair. I could feel him, already hard against me, and it sent a thrill straight to my core. My pussy clenched with anticipation, wet and ready for whatever he had in store.
His hands slid down to my ass, squeezing as he lifted me slightly, pinning me against the wall. ‘Fuck, Jade, you’re gonna be the death of me,’ he muttered against my neck, his breath hot and ragged.
‘Good,’ I panted, my nails digging into his shoulders. ‘I like leaving a mark.’
We were a mess of desperate hands and hungry mouths, the alley echoing with the sounds of our urgency. I could feel the tension coiling tighter, my body dripping with need, every nerve on edge as we teetered on the brink of something explosive. And just as I thought I couldn’t take another second of the teasing friction—
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