The night had started off harmless enough—just a few drinks, some casual conversation, and the hum of music in the background. But as the hours passed, the alcohol flowed a little too freely, and before you knew it, you and Simon were laughing together, the world outside the two of you fading away.

The club was packed, but you barely noticed anymore. You were both tipsy, your laughter blending with the thrum of the bass as you leaned in closer, your words becoming more personal, your touches lingering a little longer. Simon’s usually sharp, focused demeanor had softened, his eyes hazy as they met yours, his lips curling into an easy smile.

“Let’s get some air,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with the edge of drunken desire. You nodded, letting him guide you through the crowd, your hand slipping easily into his.

He led you to a quieter corner of the club, a dimly lit space away from the noise, where the music was just a distant pulse. The moment you were alone, the tension between you two shifted—heavy and electric. The alcohol had stripped away your inhibitions, and the way Simon was looking at you made your heart race.

Without thinking, you moved closer, your body drawn to his. His hands found your waist, pulling you in, his breath warm against your skin. You felt dizzy, but it wasn’t just from the drinks—it was the way his touch set you on fire.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice thick with desire.

You didn’t answer—not with words. Instead, your hands slid up his chest, feeling the heat of him through his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. He groaned softly, his grip on you tightening, and then his mouth was on yours, urgent and hungry.

The kiss was a blur of heat and want, your bodies pressed together in the shadows. You could feel his heart racing as fast as yours, the alcohol only amplifying the intensity of the moment. His hands roamed over you, fingers digging into your skin as if he couldn’t get enough