Chapter One: Mistaken Ride

The night was loud, too loud, and Sarah Smith felt every beat of the music pounding through her body as she stumbled out of the club. The air outside was sticky with Manila humidity, heavy and unkind, clinging to her skin. Her head spun, the world tilting and swaying as if it wanted to throw her off balance.

She fumbled with her phone, squinting at the glowing screen. A car was coming. Black. Sleek. Plate number blurred in her drunken haze.

Headlights cut across the curb. A luxury sedan slid smoothly to a stop, its paint gleaming beneath the streetlamps. Relief flooded her chest. “Finally,” she muttered, tugging open the back door with more strength than grace.

She collapsed onto cool leather seats that smelled too rich, too clean for an ordinary cab. A musky, cedar scent wrapped around her, warm and expensive.

“Drive me home,” she whispered, her head falling back, eyelids heavy.

The driver turned his head slightly. Not old. Not balding. Not at all what she expected. Instead, he was striking. Sharp jaw, dark hair falling carelessly over his forehead, eyes that glowed faintly in the dim light. Too handsome. Too young.

“Excuse me?” His voice was deep, smooth, carrying a dangerous edge.

Sarah waved a careless hand. “I said drive. Don’t… don’t argue.”

For a moment, silence. Then the car eased forward, engine humming beneath her body.

From the driver’s seat, Liam Hamilton stared at the strange woman through the rearview mirror. She was older, undeniably, but god, she was stunning. A black dress hugged her curves, sliding dangerously high on her thighs as she shifted. Her lips were painted red, slightly smudged, but her mouth, plump, inviting, made his throat tighten.

He should have told her to get out. He should have corrected her mistake. But he didn’t. Something about her, the boldness, the way she’d claimed his car without hesitation held him captive.

Her perfume drifted forward, sweet vanilla mixed with wine. Every second of silence wound his body tighter, testing his control.

“You…” Sarah mumbled suddenly, lifting her head, her eyes half-lidded but sharp enough to meet his in the mirror. “You’re too handsome for this job.”

He stiffened. “This job?”

“Driving drunk women home.” Her lips curled into a slow, daring smile.

Before Liam could respond, she leaned forward, her hand brushing over his shoulder. Heat seared his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. The simple touch sent a jolt through him, straight to the place he least wanted it.

“Stop,” he muttered, his voice rougher than he intended.

“Make me,” she whispered back, her lips grazing the line of his jaw before she even realized what she was doing.

The car swerved slightly as Liam slammed on the brake, pulling into a quiet, deserted street.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growled, turning to face her fully.

Sarah’s smile was lazy, taunting, her lipstick smeared from the wine and the heat between them. “Testing you.”

He should have thrown her out. He should have walked away. But when she leaned in again, her lips parting just enough to brush against his, his resolve shattered.

The kiss was fire.

It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t careful. It was desperate, reckless, the clash of two people who should’ve been strangers but suddenly weren’t. Her mouth tasted of red wine and sin, her tongue sliding against his with shameless hunger.

A low groan rumbled from Liam’s chest as his hands moved on instinct, gripping her waist and dragging her over the console until she straddled him.

Sarah gasped, her thighs spreading around him, her body pressing into his. The dress slid higher, baring more skin, smooth and warm under his palms. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her closer, like he needed her there, needed her heat against him.

She moaned into his mouth, the sound sending lightning through his veins. Her hands fumbled at his shirt, tugging it open, her nails grazing the hard lines of his chest.

“You’re…” she whispered against his lips, breath ragged, “…dangerous.”

“Then stop me,” he growled, kissing her harder, his teeth catching her lower lip until she whimpered.

Her body trembled. Every nerve lit up under his touch. His hands slid along her thighs, squeezing, exploring, inching higher until her breath hitched sharply. She arched into him, pressing closer, desperate for friction, for anything to quench the fire spreading inside her.

“Please…” The word escaped her, fragile, helpless, soaked in need.

He froze for half a second, his forehead pressing against hers, his breathing harsh. “Do you know what you’re asking me for?”

“Yes. Sarah wants it.” Her answer was immediate, reckless. She rolled her hips against him, making him curse under his breath.

“God, Sarah…” He hadn’t meant to say her name, it slipped out, rough, unrestrained.

She blinked, dazed. “You don’t know me.”

“You’re right,” he rasped, his lips brushing her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “But I want to.”

His mouth trailed down her neck, his lips sucking lightly at the tender spot just below her jaw. She gasped, tilting her head, her fingers digging into his hair as she trembled beneath the heat of his mouth.

Every kiss felt like a brand. His tongue flicked against her skin, his teeth scraping gently, making her moan, broken and breathless.

Her dress slipped down one shoulder. His hand brushed against bare skin, his fingertips teasing the edge, so close, so unbearably close.

Sarah’s body arched into him instinctively, desperate for more, her breath coming in shaky pants.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her voice cracking with need.

His hand slid higher, his thumb brushing just beneath the lace trim of her dress. She gasped, her entire body shuddering at the touch.

Liam groaned, burying his face against her neck, fighting a losing battle with his restraint. “If I keep going, there’s no turning back.”

“Then don’t turn back,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear.

And he nearly gave in, his hand poised at the point of no return, his mouth devouring hers again in a kiss that stole every ounce of air from her lungs, the sharp trill of a phone shattered everything.

The sound was jarring, slicing through the haze of heat and hunger. Sarah’s phone lit up on the seat, the name Ex-Husband glaring in bold letters.

Her body stiffened in his lap. His hands froze on her thighs. The spell broke, replaced by the heavy, ragged sound of their breathing.

The phone kept ringing.

Liam’s jaw clenched, his eyes dark, his grip still firm on her waist. “Answer it,” he said hoarsely.

Sarah shook her head, her pulse racing, fear and desire tangling in her chest.

The phone rang again.

Her body still trembled, her lips swollen, her heart pounding out of control.

And in the silence between them, she whispered, her voice raw, broken, desperate, “Who… the hell are you?”