Chapter Four: Red Wine and Bad Decisions

The city lights glittered like fireflies below Adrian Blackwood’s penthouse as Lola stepped in to finalize their rehearsal per Adrian’s request, the soft hum of the elevators fading behind her. She carried a bottle of red wine, knowing full well it was probably the most reckless decision she’d made since agreeing to this fake engagement.

Adrian was already there, casually leaning against the kitchen counter, sleeves rolled up, his tie loosened just enough to suggest he didn’t care, but somehow, everything about him screamed control.

“You brought wine,” he said, raising an eyebrow, his tone even but eyes amused.

“I thought it might… help,” Lola said, setting the bottle down. Her hands shook slightly, and she prayed it was from nerves and not anticipation.

“Help with what?” he asked, stepping closer. Even his casual movements seemed deliberate, calculated. His presence filled the room, heat radiating in a way that made her stomach flutter.

She shrugged, suddenly aware of how thin her sweater felt against her skin. “The pretending. The… tension.”

He smirked, reaching for two glasses. The click of the cork and the swirl of wine sounded louder than they should have. “I think a little tension is necessary,” he said, pouring carefully.

They clinked glasses. The liquid was rich, heavy, and intoxicating, both literally and figuratively. Lola sipped cautiously, the burn warming her chest.

Adrian leaned back against the counter, holding his glass loosely. “You’re better than I expected,” he said, voice low, almost teasing.

Lola blinked, startled. “Better than you…?”

“Better than I imagined I’d want to be near someone so… combustible,” he murmured. The word lingered in the air, heavy and charged.

The wine loosened her tongue. “Combustible?” she repeated, and her lips twitched with a nervous smile. “I don’t even know if that’s a compliment.”

“It is,” he replied simply. His gaze traveled over her from head to toe with a slow, deliberate appraisal. “You’re unpredictable. Alive. Dangerous.”

Her chest tightened at the word dangerous, though she wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement or both.

Minutes stretched, filled with soft laughter and sidelong glances. They moved through the apartment, pouring more wine, spilling some, and laughing at their own clumsiness. The city below seemed to disappear, leaving only the warmth of the room and the electricity between them.

Adrian leaned closer to help her with a glass that tipped too far. His hand brushed hers, lingering just long enough that her fingers tingled. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the subtle pressure of his shoulder against hers. Her breath hitched.

“I’m trying to stay professional,” she said, though her voice wavered.

“Professional?” His lips twitched in a smirk. “We agreed to pretend, didn’t we? And pretend well.”

The words were harmless, yet the way he said them sent shivers down her spine. She wanted to step back, to regain control, but every fiber of her body betrayed her, leaning in without permission.

Adrian reached for the wine again, but this time, he let his hand hover over hers for a beat longer, and the moment stretched impossibly. Lola felt the pull of him, magnetic, and for a second, she closed her eyes and let herself just… feel..

When she opened them, he was closer still. The space between them seemed impossibly small, charged with tension. He ran his fingers through her thighs in her long silk skirt and looked at her as though seeking confirmation. Lola, in too deep, nodded.

“Yes, enough of the tension already” she whispered, almost to herself.

He went down on his knees and pulled up the long skirt and down her tiny stringed panties.

“It is warm down here” he said as he stroked her vagina softly and deliberately. He inserts his fingers all the way in and repeats this over and over again. Lola let out silent soft moans. Her right hand trembled slightly, gripping the glass too tightly while her left hand grabbed Adrian’s head pulling it towards her vagina. He inhesistantly went in with his tongue licking on her plate like that was his favorite meal. “This is… complicated,” she admitted, voice low, almost breathless. But she didn't take her left hand off.

“Complicated huh?,” he murmured. His head lifted. “We can stop” he said.

She bit her lip gently and went down on her knees too.

“I want a taste of myself” she said and leaned in to kiss him, completely ignoring his suggestion. They kissed and caressed each other. He then lingered on her waist, guiding, grounding, claiming. She reached for his cock, upon feeling it, she gasped softly, heat rising to her cheeks, and he held her there just long enough for her pulse to spike.

Lola looked at him, at the curve of his jaw, the dark intensity in his eyes, and realized something dangerous: she wanted this. She wanted the tension, the heat, the closeness, the sex even. Regardless of whether it was forbidden. Even if it was wrong.

She kept thinking how intoxicating he smelled, how dangerous it was to be so aware of him, and how badly she wanted him all to herself now.

They lay together on the floor of the apartment, casual touches blending with the soft music from his speaker. The cityscape outside blurred into nothingness. Only the warmth of their bodies, the electricity in the air, and the unspoken tension remained.

Then, a gentle, deliberate pause. A slow look was exchanged. Eyes locking, hearts racing, and a silent understanding passing between them.

The world faded to black.