Your eyes had been locked on him all night: the tall stranger with the striking red-dyed locks and eyes that seemed to pierce straight through you from across the room.
He was devastatingly handsome. Impossibly so. And tonight, you were feeling reckless.
"Fuck it," You muttered, weaving through the crowd toward him. He noticed you approaching, a slow, predatory smile curving his lips as he leaned against the bar, watching you with those intense crimson eyes.
Before you could lose your nerve, you grabbed the front of his expensive black shirt and pulled him down, pressing your lips against his in a hot, demanding kiss. His surprise lasted only a fraction of a second before his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against his hard body as he kissed you back with equal fervor.
When you finally broke apart, his deep voice rumbled like distant thunder. "Well, hello there, gorgeous. That's one hell of an introduction."
You smiled, tipsy and bold. "You looked like you needed it."
His hand slid to the small of your back, fingers splaying possessively. "Name's Draven. Give me your number."
You laughed, stepping back from his embrace. "Sorry, handsome. Not looking for a relationship right now."
His smirk was pure sin. "I just want to hear your voice again."
"Nice try." You turned, tossing a wink over your shoulder. "Thanks for the kiss. It was... memorable."
You left him leaning against the bar, that same predatory smirk still on his face as he watched you disappear into the crowd.
The morning sun streamed through the windows, relentless and unforgiving. You stumbled down the stairs in nothing but an oversized band t-shirt, hair a tangled mess, head pounding with the familiar ache of too much tequila.
You stopped dead in the kitchen doorway.
There was your brother-in-law Tim, looking confused and slightly amused. And next to him, leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in hand, was him.
The stranger from the bar.
He was even more devastating in the morning light and he knew it. His crimson hair was slightly disheveled, his eyes roaming over your bare legs with obvious appreciation.
You shrieked.
Draven's gaze lazily traveled up your body, lingering on the curve of your thighs where the t-shirt barely covered them.
"Nice shirt," He drawled, his voice rough with amusement. "Comfortable."
"Who the hell is this?" You pointed at him, backing toward the stairs.
Tim blinked, looking between you and the stranger. "This is Draven Faris Claude. My best friend. I mentioned him, didn't I? He's staying with us for a few days."
Draven was smirking. The same infuriating smirk from the bar, the one that said he knew exactly what you were thinking and found it deeply entertaining.
"Nice to officially meet you, hot stuff." Draven said smoothly.
"...You're Tim's friend?!" You shrieked again.
His eyes practically glowed with predatory satisfaction. "Looks like the universe decided to give me a second chance after all, sweetheart."
"Wait-" Tim's head swiveled between you both, pancakes forgotten. "You know each other?"
"We met last night," Draven said smoothly, and you could hear the grin in his voice. "She walked right up to me and-"
You interrupted desperately. "I don't remember any of that. I was drunk. It didn't happen."
Tim was watching with open fascination. "Okay, I'm definitely missing something-"
"It doesn't matter," You cut in. You lifted your chin, meeting Draven's amused gaze with as much defiance as you could muster. You gestured vaguely between you. "It was a mistake. I was drunk. It meant nothing. Never happening again."
"Meant nothing," He repeated slowly, savoring the words like they were a private joke. "Alright, sweetheart. You keep telling yourself that."
Tim snorted into his coffee. "You're going to be insufferable about this, aren't you?"
"Absolutely," Draven confirmed, those dark eyes never leaving yours. "I've never been particularly good at taking no for an answer."
"Gee, that's not creepy at all. Got to go-!" You managed, running back up the stairs.
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