Chapter 1: Shaken, Not Stirred
The Miami summer clung to the air like a lover who wouldn’t let go, heavy and hot, pressing against Mia’s skin as she worked the bar at The Coral Dive. Neon lights buzzed above, casting a sultry pink glow over the sticky countertops, while the hum of drunken laughter and reggaeton beats pulsed through the night. Mia, with her sharp eyes and sharper tongue, slung drinks with a confidence that could stop a man dead. Her black tank top hugged her curves, and every shake of the cocktail mixer was a performance—hips swaying just enough to draw a crowd.
Jake sat at the far end of the bar, a rugged slab of a man, all broad shoulders and calloused hands, fresh off a construction site. His tight jeans did little to hide the bulge that had been growing since he’d first seen Mia toss a bottle midair with a smirk. His gaze was a predator’s, locked on her every move, and she felt it—hell, she reveled in it. Wiping down the counter, she sauntered over, her dark hair spilling over one shoulder, and leaned in just close enough for him to catch the scent of lime and tequila on her breath.
‘See something you like, hardhat?’ she teased, her voice a low purr, eyes glinting with mischief. ‘Or are you just here to stare?’
Jake grinned, a slow, dangerous curve of his lips, and tipped his beer bottle toward her. ‘I’m here for the view, darlin’. But I’m thinkin’ I’d like a taste of somethin’ stronger.’ His voice was gravel, rough from a day of shouting over machinery, and it sent a shiver down Mia’s spine.
‘Careful what you wish for,’ she shot back, arching a brow as she poured a shot of bourbon, sliding it across the bar with a flick of her wrist. ‘I don’t play nice with boys who can’t keep up.’
‘Oh, I keep up just fine,’ Jake said, downing the shot in one go, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. ‘Question is, can you handle a man who doesn’t quit?’
Mia laughed, sharp and bright, the sound cutting through the bar’s din. ‘Sweetheart, I don’t just handle—I dominate. Stick around after closing, and I’ll show you.’
The hours ticked by, the crowd thinning until the bar was a ghost of its earlier chaos. Mia flipped the ‘Closed’ sign with a flourish, her pulse already quickening as she caught Jake’s eye. He hadn’t moved, still perched on that stool, watching her like a wolf waiting to pounce. She locked the door, the click echoing in the humid silence, and turned to face him, hands on her hips.
‘Last chance to run, tough guy,’ she said, stepping closer, her boots clicking on the tiled floor. ‘I don’t do gentle.’
Jake stood, towering over her, his presence all heat and raw energy. ‘Good,’ he growled, closing the distance in a heartbeat. ‘I don’t want gentle.’
Their collision was inevitable, a storm breaking. Mia’s hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him down as their mouths crashed together, hungry and fierce. His tongue was a demand, hers a challenge, and the taste of beer and salt on his lips made her head spin. She shoved him back against the bar, her nails grazing his neck, and he groaned, his hands gripping her waist with bruising force. The counter dug into her back as she pressed against him, feeling the hard line of his cock through his jeans, already straining for her.
‘Fuck, you’re trouble,’ Jake muttered against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged.
‘And you’re about to find out how much,’ Mia shot back, her smirk wicked as she rolled her hips against him, drawing a low curse from his throat. The heat between them was unbearable, her skin already slick with sweat, her body aching for more. She could feel herself getting wet, the anticipation dripping through her as she reached for his belt, ready to unleash everything he’d been holding back.
The night was just beginning, and behind that bar, under the flickering neon, they were about to set the world on fire.
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