The summer heat beat down on the ground, shimmering against the pavement and wrapping the air in something thick and lazy. König could handle the heat — he’d handled worse. He could deal with the sweat on his skin, the heaviness in the air, the sting of the sun.

What he couldn’t deal with was you.

You, lounging by the pool like you owned the whole damn world. That red bikini — the one you wore when you wanted to drive him to the edge — clung to you perfectly, catching the light like it was designed to make him suffer. The golden sun traced over every inch of you, glinting off the sheen of water on your skin as you stretched, slow and deliberate. He swore you did it just to watch him break.

You knew he was watching, too. Of course you did. You tilted your sunglasses down just enough to meet his gaze from across the patio, lips curling into that smug little smile that made his stomach twist. The kind of smile that said you liked watching him lose his composure.

König lasted about five minutes before he snapped. The heat wasn’t the problem — you were. He stood, chair scraping softly against the stone, and your head turned immediately, eyes bright beneath the dark lenses. You didn’t move, just watched as he crossed the patio toward you with those long, deliberate steps.

“Enjoying yourself?” His voice was low, rough from the warmth pressing down on him.

You tilted your head, one brow arching. “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s a beautiful day.”

He stopped beside you, his shadow cutting across your sunlit skin. “You’re going to burn if you stay out here much longer.”

“Oh?” You hummed, sitting up slowly, that teasing little smile never fading. “You worried about me?”

“Someone should be,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

You reached for your drink, swirling the melting ice before taking a sip — slow enough to make him shift his weight, jaw tight. “Then stay,” you murmured, setting the glass down again. “Make sure I don’t get burned.”