Chapter 1: The Knock at Midnight
The clock struck twelve, and a sultry heat lingered in the air of my downtown loft. I, Veronica Steele, wasn’t one to wait around for excitement—I hunted it. But tonight, excitement found me. A sharp knock at the door snapped me out of my late-night whiskey haze. I smirked, knowing exactly who it was. Adjusting my silk robe to reveal just enough cleavage, I sauntered over, my bare feet silent on the hardwood.
‘Who’s there?’ I purred, leaning against the doorframe, already feeling a thrill coil low in my belly.
‘It’s your damn cowboy, V. Open up before I kick this door down,’ came the rough, familiar growl of Jace Ryder. His voice alone could melt steel, and I wasn’t made of anything stronger.
I swung the door open, and there he stood—six feet of rugged sin, leather jacket slung over one shoulder, dark eyes raking over me like I was his next conquest. ‘You’re late,’ I teased, arching a brow. ‘I don’t wait for anyone, not even a man who looks like he just rode in from a wet dream.’
Jace grinned, stepping inside, the scent of leather and musk hitting me like a drug. ‘Had to dodge a few eyes, darlin’. You know I can’t be seen sneakin’ into the queen of the city’s lair. But I’m here now, and I’m fuckin’ starving.’ His gaze dropped to the slit in my robe, and I saw the hunger flare.
‘Starving, huh? I’m not your damn diner,’ I shot back, crossing my arms to push my chest up just a little more. ‘What makes you think I’m on the menu?’
He closed the distance in one stride, his calloused hand brushing my jaw, sending sparks down my spine. ‘Because, V, you’ve been eye-fuckin’ me since I walked in. And I know that look—you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?’
I laughed, sharp and defiant, shoving him back a step. ‘Cocky bastard. You’ll have to work for it. I don’t just roll over for any man with a hard-on.’
‘Oh, I’m hard, alright,’ he growled, grabbing my wrist and pulling me flush against him. I felt it—his cock straining through his jeans, pressing into my hip. ‘And I know you’re dripping under that flimsy little robe. Don’t play coy with me.’
My breath hitched, but I held his gaze, my nails digging into his chest. ‘Maybe I am. But if you want this pussy, cowboy, you’d better prove you can handle the ride. I’m not some timid filly—I’ll buck you off if you can’t keep up.’
Jace’s eyes darkened, and in one swift move, he hoisted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist as he backed me against the wall. ‘Challenge accepted, darlin’. I’m gonna ride you so hard, you’ll be screaming my name ‘til dawn.’
My robe slipped open, and his rough hands gripped my bare ass, kneading with a possessiveness that made me ache. I yanked at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin, my voice a low hiss. ‘Less talk, more action. I want you sweating and panting for me.’
He smirked, his lips crashing into mine, a hungry, bruising kiss that tasted of whiskey and danger. My fingers tangled in his hair as I ground against him, feeling the heat of his cock through the denim, my body already buzzing with need. This was no gentle prelude—this was war, and I was ready to claim my victory.
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