002 – HOT MAKE-OUT SESSION

The loud music assaults my ear, the scent of expensive cologne and sweat fills my nostrils, the whole speed of clubbers and activities around me, literally kicks me off balance.

It doesn’t feel real.

Like I’m watching myself from the outside. Like I’m in a dream, walking toward something reckless. But I’ve thought about this for weeks

Every step toward the VIP lounge feels like I’m breaking a rule. Maybe I am. The bouncer steps in front of me, but—surprisingly—he just nods, parts the rope, and lets me in.

This is everything my mother warned me against—the exact things I was taught to avoid. I wasn't supposed to walk up to a man like this, I wasn't supposed to wear such revealing outfit in public, nor have any kind of intimate encounter until I was married.

"Hi...uhm, I'm sorry about...this." my voice shakes slightly as I struggle to sound confident but fail.

The man shifts on the couch, looking up as I step in.

"Uhm...I didn't mean to walk in here and disturb you." I'm trying to be cute...maybe sexy right now. But, instead, I let out a nervous laugh.

He aches a brow, his expression perfectly concealed. "It's okay. Not the first time something like this has happened." His voice is calm yet slightly teasing. "But to be honest, it's unlike the bouncer to let anyone in without checking with me first."

I let out relieved sigh, my hands still clasped together firmly. "I guess... I'm not like other people here?" I bite my lip, my eyes dropping to the floor, unable to meet his gaze. But, I peek—just a little—from the corner of my eyes.

His green eyes gleam brighter. "And you don't seem like other clubbers." His eyes takes me in, but there's no judgement in them. Instead there's curiosity. "Most people come here to escape something. But you...you seem like you're searching for something."

"Yeah. I'm not sure." My pulse steadies as I step closer. "So, you've got a name for the mysterious guy sitting in the VIP section all night? What's your deal huh? You're a regular or just passing through?"

He leans back, casual, yet completely in control. “Ryan,” he says, sipping his drink. “I’m just passing through. Got a call from my brother. Came back into town about a month ago. Family stuff. Haven’t figured out if I’m staying yet.”

He stops talking, but his gaze stays fixed on me, almost as if waiting for me to say something—probably to judge him for not helping his family.

But I won't. Not tonight. This is his family, and I'm not that Rose—the one who judges. I step closer, feeling braver now.

As though hearing my thoughts, he nods and smiles slowly. "I’m curious too," he says, voice dropping slightly. "Why did you come over? You don’t really... fit in here."

I smile, even though my heart’s pounding. "I guess... there’s something about you. Something that caught my attention." I manage to sound calm—unaffected. But a thousand butterflies are fluttering in my stomach. "But standing here and staring at you, now makes me feel like a lost kid in the mall."

"No." He taps the seat beside him, indicating there's room for me. "Don't say that."

As I step further into the VIP section, I trip over a cable and loose balance. But before I can fully hit the floor, his arms wrap around my waist, steadying me. I laugh nervously. “I’m not used to this kind of... attention.”

He gently guides me to sit, then gives me space. His hand leaves my waist, but his presence stays warm. "I wouldn't describe you as lost." The corners of his eyes crinkles as he smiles. "Something caught your eyes you walked up to him. That's sexy. And I like it."

I lower my voice, teasing. "You asked why I came over? Maybe it's because I’m tired of wanting what I’m supposed to want."

Up close, he’s even more striking.

"It's not just you," he says quietly. There’s something raw behind his words. He leans in just slightly. "You’ve got a script in mind—but you’re not following it, are you?"

My eyes widen. How did he see through me? "I don't know why I came here. I'm not like..." I hesitate, the words catching in my throat. "Most people here. I'm supposed to be..." I glance away, embarrassed at my own thoughts. "But sometimes I wonder if I'm just following the rules to avoid... I don't know. Breaking something. Or myself."

He brushes my hand, softly. I flinch, but he doesn’t let go. His hand stays.

"Rules keep you safe," he says, barely louder than the beat behind us. "But they also keep you from feeling anything real."

He smiles, his warm touch stays on mine. "Sometimes the first step is just saying yes. Whatever that comes after we deal with it." He grins, but there's sincerity beneath his playful demeanor. "And tonight, why not take that step?"

I hesitate, my mind compiling a hundred reasons why this is a bad idea.

The music slowly fades, narrowing the cub down to just me and him. His brow arches, his stare lingers on my lips as I part them to speak. The air feels different with something new—chemistry? Tension? Desire? His expensive cologne fills my nostrils.

I feel his thoughts before he speaks them, he's not talking about rules anymore. And this is where I should run. I open my mouth to refuse, but all I can say is. "Yes, tonight."

I know this is the moment. I watch him, eyes softening, leaning closer. In the chaos of the club, surrounded by drunken bodies and flashing lights. We're isolated. Just us. My heart races, I should pull back. A stranger is about to kiss me.

I want to say no, but my lips—my body betrays me. His lips cover mine in a kiss that is so hot and barbaric, pulling me in. His hands are firm on me, pressing me into him. I feel his fingers slide against my ass, guiding me to sit over his thighs. Our tongues curl together in a tangled mess. My mind blurs with heat.

Maybe Monique was right. One night of letting loose wouldn't destroy the perfect image I've built over the years. It won't ruin the legacy my family has carefully crafted for me. I don't need to be perfect tonight. I could let myself be vulnerable—for one night. Afterall, I'll never see this stranger again.

But the kiss breaks, leaving me breathless, my thoughts as disorienting as the flashing lights, my heart pounding in my chest, faster than the bass in the speaker. What have I done?

I feel his hands glide my thighs. Higher, almost stroking my wet folds. My pulse spikes. "Uh." I breathe, my body trembling at his touch. This is going too far, I never meant for this to happen. I shake uncontrollably, looking down at his fingers between my thighs. "I thought we are in friend zone."

"It's just a touch." He murmurs, his eyes dark with desire, and I melt into him again.

His fingers rob the edge of my panties, slowly... I bite in a moan. My body responding before my mind could catch up. As he leans in again, my body screams for me to pull away but my lips betrays me, closing the distance. His tongue finds my mouth again and thrust in. My lips move on their own accord, sucking on his button lips as he expertly kisses me and massage my ass. A moan escapes my mouth, then another. It's suddenly too hard to breath.

A flash of my mother's face appears in my mind. Would she approve of this? Ofcourse not. But...what if, just for tonight, I didn't care?

I'm gasping for air, the kiss deepening. Urgent. My protests are swallowed by his lips as he moves to my jawline, slow and deliberate. He pulls back a little, our foreheads still touching. We breathe in each other, our chests rising and falling in rhythm.

I freeze and panic takes hold of me. What have I done? I've kissed a strange man who isn't my husband. I've broken every rule I lived by, betrayed the code my family set for me. Guilt suffocates me.

His warm hands remains on my back—a sign of understanding that goes beyond physical moment we just shared.

But I don't need his empty comfort. I pull away, shaking off his grip until my feet touch the ground. My head spins, the knowledge of our kiss knocks the air out of my lungs. What have I become? I look down at the erection between his thighs, surprised at how aroused I made him.

"A case of blue balls. Yeah, it will be a pain by tomorrow." His voice reveals the intended humor and something darker, more real. "But I can wait."

I need to leave. The thought comes as a whisper. My feet begin moving, pushing me away from him, toward the exit.

"I didn't get a name," his deep voice calls after me.

I stop, turning to face him. "Because it's not important."

"Why?" He steps closer, a subtle challenge in his voice.

"We will never see each other again." I reply. Not waiting for another question, I disappear into the crowd, the loud music vibrating in my chest. The light flashes around me, but everything feels...unreal. My breath is shallow. Why am I walking away? What do I really want?

I stop and glance back. Ryan is still watching me, his expression hard to make out.

And it breaks my heart because this is the end of something that never even begun.

But I'm surely not the same girl who walked into this club.