Wicked Weekend

Chapter 1: The Dare at the Bar

Lila perched on the edge of the sleek hotel barstool, her crimson dress hugging every curve of her athletic frame, the hem riding just high enough to turn heads. She sipped her martini, the sharp bite of gin doing little to cool the simmer of irritation in her chest. Her husband, Mark, had practically begged her to take this girls’ weekend, only to drop the bombshell over the phone an hour ago: 'Pick up a stranger, babe. Let loose. Do something wild for once.'

'Asshole,' she muttered under her breath, her sharp green eyes scanning the dimly lit bar. She wasn’t some timid little housewife to be dared into debauchery. If she did this—and that was a big if—it would be on her terms. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the glass, her mind racing between fury and a dangerous curiosity.

That’s when he walked in. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a jawline that could cut glass and a smirk that screamed trouble. He wore a tailored black shirt, unbuttoned just enough to hint at a chest she could already imagine running her nails down. He caught her gaze across the room, and Lila didn’t look away. If Mark wanted a show, she’d give him one he’d never forget.

He sauntered over, confidence dripping off him like sweat after a hard run. 'You look like you’re plotting a murder or a seduction,' he said, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down her spine.

Lila arched a brow, her lips curling into a smirk of her own. 'Maybe both. Depends on how much you annoy me in the next five minutes.'

He chuckled, sliding onto the stool beside her. 'I’m Jace. And I’m very good at not being annoying. Among other things.' His eyes raked over her, unapologetic, and she felt the heat of his stare like a physical touch.

'Is that so?' she shot back, crossing her legs deliberately, letting the dress ride higher. 'Prove it. Buy me a drink and tell me something worth hearing.'

Jace signaled the bartender without breaking eye contact. 'Another martini for the lady who’s clearly too dangerous for just one. And as for something worth hearing… I’ve got a room upstairs, and I’m betting I can make you forget whatever’s got you looking so pissed off.'

Lila laughed, sharp and biting, but there was a spark in her chest now, a challenge she couldn’t ignore. 'Bold. I like that. But I don’t melt for cheap lines, Jace. You’ll have to work harder than that.'

'Oh, I plan to,' he said, leaning closer, his breath warm against her ear. 'I’m very good at hard work.' The double entendre wasn’t lost on her, and she felt a flush creep up her neck, her body betraying her cool exterior.

They bantered for another twenty minutes, each quip sharper than the last, the tension building like a storm ready to break. Her anger at Mark morphed into something else—something hungry. When Jace’s hand brushed her thigh under the bar, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in, her voice a husky whisper. 'Alright, hotshot. Let’s see if you’re all talk. My room. Now.'

The elevator ride was electric, their bodies inches apart, the air thick with unspoken promises. As the door to her suite clicked shut behind them, Jace didn’t waste a second. He pushed her against the wall, his hands firm on her hips, his mouth crashing into hers with a ferocity that made her gasp. She kissed him back just as fiercely, her fingers digging into his shoulders, taking control as much as he was.

'You’re not some shy little thing, are you?' he growled against her lips, his hands sliding under her dress, gripping her ass with a possessive edge.

'Not even close,' she snapped, shoving him back toward the bed, her eyes blazing. 'You wanted a ride, Jace? Buckle up. I’m driving.'

Their clothes hit the floor in a frenzy, and as she straddled him, feeling him hard and ready beneath her, Lila knew this was no longer about Mark’s stupid dare. This was about her—her power, her desire, her rules. But as Jace’s hands roamed her body, promising a night of raw, unfiltered filth, she couldn’t help but wonder just how far she’d let herself go.