1.1 The Taste of the Wrong Man

The night had not been kind to Leana. The text message glowed on her screen, a neat little bullet point summarizing the collapse of her professional dignity.

“After careful consideration, the position has been designated to Jameson Croft. Your dedication is valued…..”

Leana didn’t read the rest. She let the phone clatter onto the polished surface of the bar, the sound swallowed by the low hum of conversation and soft jazz. Months of late nights, of sacrificed weekends, of swallowing her pride and smiling at clients who talked over her. For a valued pat on the head and a rival with half her talent but twice the entitlement stole the prize.

So, when her friends dragged her out for the night, insisting she needed a distraction, she hadn’t argued. She’d dressed up, slipped into her heels, and let them pour her shots until the bitterness dulled. The liquor burned faintly on her tongue, but it wasn’t enough to erase the sting of the day.

“Stop sulking,” her friend Andrea sang out from the booth nearby. Andrea was the type who never quite registered when someone wasn’t in the mood for her theatrics. “You’re killing the vibe and by the way, pouting doesn’t suit you. You’re far too gorgeous for that.”

Leana gave her a look, sharp and exasperated. “Andrea, I’m not in the mood. Please.”

Andrea only smirked. “Fine. If you won’t do something for yourself, do it for us. We’re making it interesting.”

Leana arched her brow. “What are you scheming now?”

The brunette’s eyes glinted as she tilted her chin toward the far end of the bar. Leana followed her gaze and froze. A man sat there, alone with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand unlike the rest of the noisy crowd. His focus seemed elsewhere, but even from a distance, his presence was magnetic.

Andrea’s smirk grew wider. “He’s been watching you.

Leana scoffed, though her stomach flipped. “He hasn’t even looked over here.”

“Oh, please,” Andrea scoffed. “The man’s practically undressing you with his eyes. That’s how you know he’s dangerous. The quiet ones always are.”

The other girls giggled, egging her on. “Go talk to him.”

And just like that, Leana was cornered. The thought of approaching a stranger under normal circumstances would have felt absurd. But tonight, something inside her had frayed too much to care.

Leana set her empty glass on the counter with a sharp clink. “Fine. Watch and learn.”

She smoothed her dress which was a little too daring and checked her reflection in the mirrored shelves behind the bar. Tousled blonde waves framed her face, her green eyes glittering in the dim light.

Her pulse thumped loudly in her ears with each step closer. The man’s gaze lifted, catching hers and for a fleeting second, she thought about turning back. But then his lips curved into the faintest suggestion of a smirk, and something about that silent challenge pushed her forward.

Leana gathered herself and leaned casually against his table. “Is this seat taken?”

His voice was smooth, deep, threaded with amusement. “It is now.”

She slid onto the stool beside him, crossing her legs with deliberate nonchalance. “Bold answer.”

“Bold question,” he countered, eyes flicking briefly to the hem of her dress before returning to her face. “After all, not every girl comes to a random stranger and asks if the seat beside is taken.”

“Depends on the stranger.” She let the words hang, teasing.

He set his glass down, leaning back in his chair with an ease that felt calculated. “Fair enough, but what does the stranger have to do to earn such attention?”

Leana leaned closer, just enough to let her perfume mingle with the scent of his drink. “Sit alone in a corner, looking like he owns the room.”

“Is that how I look?” he asked, arching a brow.

“That’s how you looked to me,” she replied, holding his gaze.

His lips curved again, slow and deliberate, as though savoring her audacity. “Confident,” he corrected smoothly. He extended a hand across the table. “Ryan.”

“Leana,” she offered, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Leana,” he repeated, rolling it on his tongue like he was tasting it. “Beautiful name.”

Their hands didn’t part right away. He studied her with that same unnerving intensity, and for once, she didn’t feel like the one in control.

She broke the silence with a sly smile. “Do you always stare at strangers from across the room?”

“Only when they’re worth staring at,” Ryan replied easily. He leaned closer, and she caught the faint scent of whiskey and something darker. “And you’ve been worth it all night.”

Her breath caught, though she masked it with a playful tilt of her head. “You’re dangerous.”

He smirked. “And I bet you’re intrigued.”

At some point, Ryan’s hand brushed against hers on the bar top. A small touch, fleeting, but electric. Leana didn’t pull away.

Ryan stood, tossing a few bills on the table without breaking eye contact. “It’s loud in here,” he murmured, eyes darkening as they locked onto hers. His face dipped closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I know a private spot.”

Leana’s heart kicked. He stood, tossed a few bills onto the counter, and extended his hand. She hesitated only long enough to remember Andrea’s smug grin waiting back at the booth. Then she placed her hand in his.

He led her through a side door onto a secluded terrace. The night air was cool against her flushed skin, the hum of the city distant.

The door clicked shut, and before she could breathe, Ryan turned, pinning her lightly against the brick wall, his hand braced beside her head, his body angled close enough to make her breath catch.

“You have a bold streak,” he murmured again, his lips grazing her temple. “I like that.”

“I could say the same for you,” she whispered back.

His hand came up, cupping her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek as he lowered his head. Their lips met, soft at first, then hungry and demanding, edged with the frustration of two people who had been waiting far too long for something they hadn’t even known they needed.

Leana tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and he answered with a low growl that sent shivers racing down her spine. The world narrowed to the press of his lips, the taste of whiskey on his tongue, the heat sparking wherever their bodies touched.

The kiss deepened until her knees went weak. He pulled back only to trail his lips along her jaw, down her throat, his breath hot against her skin. She gasped softly, tilting her head, giving him more.

Eventually, Ryan’s lips found her ear. “The night is young,” he whispered. “And my place is nearby.

She didn’t argue, only nodded. Their hands found each other again, entwining naturally as he led her from the terrace.

The ride to his apartment was a blur as he drove silently with Leana beside staring at the lights outside.

When they reached his penthouse, Ryan barely let the door shut before he turned, claiming her mouth in a searing kiss. Leana moaned into his mouth, hands fisting in his shirt as he backed her up against the wall. He didn’t bother with lights, the faint glow from the city was enough.

His hands roamed her body, caressing her curves through the fabric of her dress. She arched into his touch, craving more. Impatiently, he hiked up her skirt, finding the heat of her bare skin. His fingers skimmed along her inner thigh, until they brushed against the damp lace of her panties.

"Fuck," he groaned against her lips. "You're so wet already.”

Leana whimpered, hips bucking as he rubbed her through the thin material. "Please," she gasped out. "I need you."

She gasped against his mouth, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he lifted her effortlessly. She clung to him, laughter spilling out between kisses. He carried her through the darkened space.

Ryan wasted no time in pushing her panties aside, delving two fingers deep into her slick heat. Leana cried out, head falling back against the soft pillow as he began to thrust. His thumb found her clit, rubbing in tight circles that had her seeing stars.

"So tight," he growled, lips trailing down her neck. "Can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."

Leana could only moan, lost to the pleasure building. He added a third finger, pumping faster, pushing her closer to the edge. Just as she was about to crash over, he withdrew his hand completely.

"Wait! No…" she cried out, bereft at the loss.

A wicked grin appeared on his face as he stripped off his clothes, revealing his hard, muscular body. She licked her lips at the sight of his thick cock standing at attention. He crawled over her, taking her wrists and pinning them above her head.

He squeezed her breasts through the lace, his thumbs circling her already hardened nipples. The sensation was a direct lightning strike to her core, and she arched her back off the bed, a moan tearing from her throat.

“I’ve been watching these all night, trying to figure out how they’d feel in my hands. They had all my attention from the beginning,” he said, his voice thick with desire.

Ryan quickly opened the bra clasp, tossing it aside. His hands were on her bare skin now, his touch both reverent and ruthless. He lowered his head, and his mouth closed over one peak, his tongue laving, his teeth grazing with just enough pressure to make her cry out.

His other hand continued its relentless attention on her other breast, and Leana was lost, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her head thrashing against the pillows. The rough texture of his tongue, the scrape of his stubble against her delicate skin, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress were all driving her insane.

"I'm going to make you scream my name so loud that your throat will be sore when you wake up next," he promised darkly, one hand already working at the zipper of her dress. 

He undressed her slowly, taking his own sweet time. By the time she was naked, Leana was writhing with need, desperate for his touch. He settled between her thighs, his erection pressing against her wet heat.

"Condom," she gasped out, the only coherent thought she could manage.

He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a foil packet and quickly sheathing himself. Then he was back, nudging at her entrance. With one hard thrust, Ryan buried himself deep inside her. Leana cried out at the sudden fullness, walls stretching deliciously around him. He gave her a moment to adjust before starting to move, setting a fast, hard pace.

"Fuck!" he groaned, head dropping to her shoulder. "You feel incredible."

“Harder,” she pleaded, and he obliged, his pace becoming almost punishing, driving her higher and higher.

She could only scream his name as he pounded into her like a beast, each thrust driving her higher. The headboard slammed against the wall, their moans and grunts filling the room. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core, winding like a spring ready to snap.

"Come for me," Ryan demanded, angling to hit that perfect spot inside her. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

As if his words were the trigger she needed, Leana came undone with a scream of his name. Her inner muscles clenched around him rhythmically as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her. Ryan followed her over the edge moments later, buried deep as he pulsed inside her. They collapsed together, spent and panting.

By the time dawn bled through the curtains, Leana was a tangled mess of exhaustion and lingering fire. Ryan slept beside her, one arm draped lazily across her waist. She stared at him for a long moment, memorizing the sharp lines of his face in sleep.