Chapter 1: Last Call
The Miami summer clung to the air like a lover who wouldn’t let go, thick and sultry, wrapping around Mia as she wiped down the bar at The Coral Dive. Her skin glistened under the dim neon lights, a sheen of sweat tracing the curve of her neck down to the low-cut tank top that hugged her frame. She was no damsel waiting to be saved; Mia owned every inch of this sticky, rum-soaked kingdom, her sharp tongue and sharper gaze keeping the late-night drunks in line. But tonight, her eyes kept drifting to the corner booth where Jake sat, nursing a beer with a gaze that could strip paint—or clothes.
Jake was all rugged edges, a contractor with hands that looked like they could build a house or break a heart with equal ease. His faded t-shirt stretched over broad shoulders, and the way his jeans clung to his thighs made Mia’s thoughts wander to places hotter than this damn bar. She caught his stare again, a slow burn that sent a jolt straight to her core, her pussy already wet with a hungry ache she hadn’t felt in months.
“Last call, handsome,” she called out, her voice a smoky tease as she leaned over the bar, giving him a view that was anything but accidental. “Unless you’ve got something better to offer than that empty bottle.”
Jake’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed the bottle aside. “Darlin’, I’ve got plenty to offer. Question is, can you handle it after a long shift, or are you all talk behind that counter?”
Mia laughed, low and dangerous, tossing the rag over her shoulder. “Oh, sugar, I’ve handled bigger tools than you’ve got in that truck of yours. Try me.”
He stood, all slow confidence, and sauntered over, the heat between them crackling louder than the busted jukebox in the corner. The bar was empty now, the last stragglers gone, leaving just the hum of the neon sign and the tension dripping like condensation down a cold glass. Jake leaned against the bar, close enough that she could smell the faint musk of sweat and sawdust on him, and it made her pulse race.
“Careful what you wish for, Mia,” he murmured, his voice a rough growl that sent shivers down her spine. “I don’t play nice when I’m this worked up.”
She stepped out from behind the bar, her hips swaying with purpose as she closed the distance, her dark eyes locked on his. “Good. I’m not looking for nice. I’m looking for hard, fast, and filthy. Think you can keep up?”
Jake’s grin was pure sin as he reached out, his calloused fingers brushing her hip, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the heat of him, the promise of something thick and unyielding pressing against her through his jeans, and it made her breath hitch. “Backroom. Now,” she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. She wasn’t asking; she was taking.
They stumbled through the narrow hallway, the air growing heavier with every step, anticipation dripping between them like the humidity outside. The backroom door slammed shut behind them, and Mia shoved him against the wall, her hands already tugging at his belt with a ferocity that matched the fire in her eyes. “Let’s see if you’re all talk, contractor,” she purred, her lips hovering just over his, daring him to make the first move.
Jake’s hands gripped her waist, flipping their positions with a strength that made her gasp, pinning her against the wall as his mouth crashed into hers. The kiss was all teeth and heat, a battle for control neither was willing to lose. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing more, needing everything, as the room spun with the raw, electric promise of what was about to explode between them.
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