Chapter 1: Morning Fire
The morning sun sliced through the blinds of the cramped dorm room, casting golden streaks across Santi’s tousled hair as he slipped out of bed. He needed air, a moment to escape the suffocating tension that clung to the room like a second skin. Nabi, on the other hand, sprawled across the bed, her long legs tangled in the sheets, sleeping as if she owned the damn place. Her presence was a constant challenge, a dare he couldn’t ignore.
Minutes later, Nabi’s dark eyes fluttered open, scanning the empty room. Her lips curled into a scowl when she realized Santi hadn’t bothered to whip up breakfast. ‘Lazy bastard,’ she muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with irritation. When Santi finally sauntered back in, smelling of fresh air and defiance, Nabi’s glare could’ve burned holes through steel.
‘So, what, I’m supposed to starve because you’re too busy playing brooding loner?’ Nabi snapped, sitting up, her tank top slipping off one shoulder, revealing the curve of her collarbone. Her tone was sharp, a blade wrapped in velvet.
Santi rolled his eyes, brushing past her without a word, his jaw tight. He wasn’t about to play her game. But Nabi wasn’t one to be ignored. She shot up, grabbing his wrist just as he reached the door, her grip firm, her breath hot against his ear as she leaned in close. ‘What’s your deal, huh? No breakfast? Are you begging me to shove something else down your throat instead?’ Her whisper was a taunt, laced with raw, dangerous intent.
Santi’s face flushed with anger, not arousal. He yanked his arm free, spinning to face her, his hazel eyes blazing. ‘Get off me, Nabi. I’m not your damn servant, and I’m sure as hell not your punching bag. Stop treating me like I’m some pathetic toy for you to mess with.’
Nabi threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed off the walls. ‘Oh, please, you dramatic little shit. Always acting like you’re above it all. You’re not fooling anyone.’ Her smirk was a weapon, cutting deeper than her words.
Santi’s temper flared. Without thinking, he spat in her face, a reckless act of defiance. Nabi’s laughter died instantly, her expression darkening as she wiped the spit from her cheek with a slow, deliberate motion. In a flash, she shoved him hard, sending him stumbling back. He hit the floor with a grunt, landing on his knees, his gaze defiant even as pain shot through him.
Nabi towered over him, her breath quickening, a predatory glint in her eyes as she took in his rebellious sneer. ‘Damn, Santi, you look good down there. Bet you’d look even prettier with my cock in your mouth,’ she purred, her voice low and dripping with heat. But she held back, barely, her control fraying at the edges. ‘I’m a nice girl, though. I’ll give you a chance. Apologize for screwing up my morning, and maybe I’ll play nice.’
Santi pushed himself up, brushing off his knees, his glare unwavering. ‘I’d rather die than apologize to you, Nabi. Keep dreaming.’ His voice was steady, a challenge wrapped in steel.
Her smirk returned, darker this time. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back to meet her gaze. ‘Keep talking like that, and I’ll have no choice but to shove my cock so deep in that gorgeous ass of yours you’ll be begging for mercy.’ Her words were a promise, not a threat, her grip tightening as her pulse raced.
Santi’s eyes narrowed, his defiance unshaken. ‘I said no, Nabi. I’m not bending for you. Ever.’
The air between them crackled, thick with unspoken hunger and raw tension. Nabi’s control snapped for a split second, her hands moving to her belt, unbuckling it with a sharp clink. Santi’s breath hitched, not out of fear, but out of the sheer audacity of her. Before she could go further, he shoved her back with all his strength, scrambling to his feet. He bolted for the door, his heart pounding, leaving Nabi standing there, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with unspent desire.
She cursed under her breath, yanking her jeans back up. ‘You can run, Santi, but I’m not done with you,’ she called after him, her voice a sultry growl. She wasn’t about to let him slip away that easily. Not when the thought of him—hard, panting, and dripping with sweat—made her so damn horny she could barely think straight.
Santi didn’t stop, his mind racing as fast as his feet. He knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Nabi’s hunger was a storm, and he was caught right in the eye of it. But he wasn’t about to let her win. Not yet. The game was just beginning, and he’d be damned if he didn’t make her beg for it before they crashed into the inevitable—wet, wild, and unstoppable.
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