Chapter 1: Sparks Behind the Bar
The Miami summer was a beast, the kind of heat that clung to your skin like a lover who wouldn’t let go. Inside The Coral Dive, the air was thick with the scent of salt, tequila, and unspoken desire. Mia Torres commanded the bar like a queen, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, her curves swaying with every pour. She was no damsel waiting to be saved—hell, she’d sooner save you with a sharp quip and a shot of bourbon. Tonight, though, her eyes kept darting to the corner stool where Jake Malone sat, his rugged frame barely contained by a worn-out tee and jeans that did little to hide the hard bulge straining beneath.
Jake was a construction worker, all grit and muscle, with hands that looked like they could build—or break—anything. He’d been watching Mia for an hour, his gaze a slow burn that made her skin prickle. She caught his eye again as she wiped down the bar, her hips rolling just a little more than necessary. A smirk tugged at her lips.
‘Keep staring, big guy,’ she called out, her voice cutting through the hum of the crowd. ‘I charge by the minute for a show like this.’
Jake leaned forward, his forearms resting on the bar, a grin splitting his stubbled face. ‘Worth every damn penny, darlin’. But I’m more of a hands-on learner. Got any private lessons after closing?’
Mia arched a brow, pouring a shot of whiskey with a flick of her wrist. ‘Depends. You got the tools to keep up, or are you just all talk?’
He chuckled, low and rough, the sound sending a jolt straight to her core. ‘Oh, I’ve got the tools, sweetheart. Question is, can you handle the workload?’
She slid the shot across to him, her fingers brushing his just long enough to feel the heat of his skin. ‘I’ve handled bigger jobs than you, Jake. Don’t flatter yourself.’
The bar emptied out as the night wore on, the last stragglers stumbling into the humid night. Mia locked the front door, the click echoing in the now-silent space. Jake hadn’t moved from his stool, his eyes still locked on her like a predator sizing up prey. But Mia wasn’t anyone’s catch—she was the hunter here.
‘So,’ she said, sauntering over, her boots clicking on the sticky floor. ‘You sticking around for that private lesson, or you just gonna sit there looking pretty?’
Jake stood, towering over her, but she didn’t flinch. He stepped closer, the scent of sweat and sawdust rolling off him, intoxicating. ‘I’m all yours, Mia. Show me what you’ve got.’
Her pulse quickened, a wicked glint in her eye as she grabbed his shirt, pulling him toward the backroom. ‘Oh, I’ll show you, alright. But don’t cry when I break you.’
The backroom was cramped, stacked with crates and bottles, the air heavy with anticipation. Mia shoved him against the wall, her hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath. His breath hitched as she dropped to her knees, her fingers deftly undoing his belt. She looked up at him, her gaze fierce, daring him to look away. ‘Let’s see if this cock of yours is as impressive as your ego.’
Jake groaned, his hands fisting in her hair as she freed him, her lips curling into a smirk at the sight. The tension between them snapped like a taut wire, the heat of the night and their sharp words fueling a fire that was about to explode.
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