Sweet Distraction

I hated the taste of alcohol, the way it burned my throat and left me feeling unsteady. I hated the way it stripped away my sense of control. But tonight, control felt like a prison, one that had left me in ruins.

"Give me a glass of champagne. The strongest you've got," I said, my voice barely hiding the desperation.

The bartender glanced at me, her brow arching as if she could see the heartbreak that had driven me here.

"Alright, give me a minute," she replied, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips.

Tonight, I'm going to lose control. For the first time in my life, I'm going to drink, to stupor.

The bartender handed me the glass, and without a second thought, I tilted it back, the liquid burning its way down as I swallowed, the heat spreading through me. I placed the empty glass on the bar, my fingers trembling as I felt the sobs clawing at my chest, desperate to escape.

"Another one," I muttered, forcing the words out as I blinked back the tears threatening to spill.

She poured another glass, her eyes lingering on me with a mix of curiosity and concern.

I took it, letting the cool glass press against my lips before draining it as quickly as the first.

The bartender leaned forward, her tone soft but bold as she said, "I could spend the night with you, if you want." Her smile was sultry, her eyes filled with an invitation to forget, to numb the pain.

I froze, the faintest of smiles breaking through as I shook my head. "Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” I replied, a bitter laugh escaping me. “Just give me more wine.”

She poured another glass of wine, her gaze lingering on me as she leaned across the bar.

"You're missing out on a lot, babe. I'm damn sure a man broke your heart," she said knowingly, tilting her head. "Give up on men. Try women."

I didn't reply; I simply listened as she spoke, her voice soft and enticing.

There was a part of me that wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but another part of me wondered if she was right. Maybe I had given too much of myself to someone who'd only left me broken.

"Men are scum," she muttered, a bitterness in her tone that told me she, too, had been through her share of heartbreak.

Just as I was about to take another sip, a deep, smooth male voice cut through the atmosphere. "How so?"

I turned, the glass freezing at my lips as I looked up at the tall and imposing man standing beside me.

He was dressed in sleek black sleeves and dark trousers, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders and revealing just enough of his muscular chest to catch the eye. But it was his face that intrigued me most—what little I could see of it, anyway.

A mask covered the upper half of his face, leaving only his nose and lips exposed. It gave him an air of mystery, like someone who moved through shadows by choice, not by chance.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, her posture shifting as she shot him a disdainful look. "Do you really want to know?"

He shrugged, his gaze never leaving mine. "I think I do. But I'd rather hear it from her," he said, nodding toward me.

“Is there a reason you’re hiding?” I asked, my tone bolder than I felt.

His lips twitched slightly, amusement sparking on the edges of his mouth. “Is there a reason you’re drinking yourself into oblivion?” he countered, his voice smooth and calm.

I sipped my drink, keeping my gaze locked on him, trying to push the memory of Alex kissing that other woman out of my mind. But it lingered, sharp and fresh, fueling the ache in my chest. A wild, reckless idea surfaced, and I felt a spark of mischief take over.

I leaned in, my voice low, a daring smile on my lips. "Can you take off your mask?"

He returned my smile, revealing a flash of perfect white teeth, his lips curving into something between amusement and intrigue.

But before he could answer, I made my move. Rising onto my toes, I leaned into him, closing the space between us, and pressed my lips against his.

The world fell away in that moment. His lips were warm and surprisingly soft, a contrast to his strong, imposing presence. For a split second, he froze, clearly taken by surprise, but then his hand moved to my waist, steadying me as he responded, deepening the kiss.

When we finally pulled apart, my heart was racing, and I could feel a flush creeping over my cheeks. He looked down at me, his smile now tinged with something darker, more intense.

The bartender watched us with mild interest, but I barely noticed her anymore. I was caught in the pull of this stranger, his masked gaze fixed on me as if he were seeing something no one else had dared to look for.

He leaned in closer, so near I could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath brushing my skin.

For a fleeting second, I thought he was going to kiss me again, and a thrill of anticipation shivered down my spine. I wanted him to.

“I want you,” he murmured, his voice laced with a dark intensity, a hunger that felt almost dangerous. His gaze, even from behind the mask, burned into me, as though I’d awakened something fierce and primal inside him.

I bit my lip, my heart pounding wildly as I whispered, "I’m all yours to devour."

His hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me against him, he leaned down, his lips grazing my ear as he whispered, “You might regret saying that.” His voice was a low, thrilling rumble that sent a jolt through me.