Simon sat in the corner of the club, arms folded across his chest, watching as you moved across the room like you owned it. The music pulsed around you, lights flashing in sync with every beat, but none of that seemed to faze you. You carried yourself with the kind of confidence that turned heads, and Simon couldn’t help but notice every pair of eyes that followed you as you passed.

He didn’t like it—not one bit.

When you caught his gaze from across the room, there was a spark, a silent challenge in your eyes. You knew what you were doing, knew how to make him feel that burn in his chest, the one that pushed him just past the edge of control.

You sauntered over, hips swaying in time with the music, your smirk playful, teasing. “Enjoying the show?” you asked, voice dripping with mock innocence.

Simon’s jaw clenched, his eyes raking over you slowly before he responded, “You always have to be the center of attention, don’t you?”

You just laughed, leaning in closer, your breath warm against his ear. “Maybe I do. What are you gonna do about it?”

That was all it took. Simon grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him with enough force to remind you who was really in control. His lips were inches from yours, his voice low and filled with heat. “Careful what you ask for.”

You met his gaze, unflinching. “I can handle it.”

Simon grinned wickedly, a dangerous glint in his eye. “We’ll see about that.”