Chapter 1: Closing Time Sparks
The Miami night was a sultry beast, the kind of heat that clung to your skin like a lover who wouldn’t let go. Inside The Coral Dive, a gritty little bar on the edge of South Beach, the air was thick with the scent of cheap beer and cheaper cologne. Mia Lopez, the bartender with a tongue sharper than the lime wedges she sliced, was in her element. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, a few strands teasing the nape of her neck as she poured shots with a flick of her wrist. Her tank top hugged her curves, and the way her hips swayed as she moved behind the bar was damn near hypnotic.
Jake Carter, a construction worker with hands rougher than the concrete he poured, sat at the far end of the bar, nursing a whiskey. His eyes, a stormy blue, hadn’t left Mia since he walked in. Under the tight denim of his jeans, he was already hard, the ache growing with every glimpse of her ass as she bent to grab a bottle from the lower shelf. He shifted in his seat, trying to ease the pressure, but it was no use. She was a fucking wildfire, and he was dry tinder waiting to ignite.
‘Another round, hardhat?’ Mia’s voice cut through the hum of the bar, her smirk sharp enough to slice through his restraint. She leaned over the counter, her cleavage a deliberate taunt, and slid another glass his way.
‘Only if you’re pouring, sweetheart,’ Jake shot back, his voice low and gravelly, a challenge wrapped in velvet. ‘You’ve got a way of making a man thirsty for more than just whiskey.’
Mia laughed, a sound that was all spice and no sugar. ‘Careful, big guy. I don’t serve up anything I can’t handle. And trust me, I handle plenty.’
His grin was slow, predatory. ‘I bet you do. Question is, can you keep up when the bar’s closed and there’s no one to watch?’
Her eyes narrowed, a spark of intrigue flashing in their dark depths. ‘Stick around, and you might find out. I don’t play games, Jake. I win them.’
The clock ticked past midnight, and the last of the drunks stumbled out into the humid night. Mia flipped the ‘Closed’ sign with a flourish, her gaze locking on Jake as he lingered by the bar. The tension between them was a live wire, buzzing with unspoken promises. She sauntered over, her boots clicking on the sticky floor, and stopped just close enough that he could smell the citrus on her skin.
‘So,’ she drawled, crossing her arms, pushing her chest up just enough to make his mouth go dry. ‘You gonna sit there all night, or are we taking this somewhere with less... inventory?’
Jake stood, towering over her, but Mia didn’t flinch. He stepped closer, his breath hot against her ear. ‘Lead the way, boss. I’m all yours.’
She smirked, grabbing his wrist with a grip that said she wasn’t asking permission, and pulled him toward the backroom. The door slammed shut behind them, the dim light casting shadows over stacks of liquor crates. Mia turned, her eyes blazing with a hunger that matched his own, and pushed him against the wall. ‘Don’t think for a second I’m some damsel waiting to be saved. I take what I want.’
‘Good,’ he growled, his hands finding her hips, pulling her flush against him. ‘Because I’m not here to save you. I’m here to wreck you.’
Her laugh was a wicked thing as she dropped to her knees, her fingers already working the buckle of his belt. The anticipation was electric, her breath hot through the denim as she looked up at him, her lips wet and parted. His cock strained against the fabric, and she knew it, reveled in it. This was no game of cat and mouse—this was predator meeting predator, and the backroom was about to become their battlefield.
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga — or write a steamy tale starring you.