The club was a chaos of neon and bass—bodies moving like a single organism under strobing lights. You'd been there two hours, and Leon had been attentive but distracted, eyes occasionally scanning exits and crowd movements. Old habits.

Then the DJ switched tracks.

Those first three notes hit—the song that had played in Leon's car the night you first kissed. His body tensed beside you, blue eyes finding yours across the rim of his glass. A silent conversation passed between you in seconds.

His pupils dilated slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking into that half-smile that still made your heart stutter after all this time.

"We should go," he mouthed, barely audible over the music.

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

"Bathroom," you lied to Claire with a meaningful glance. She rolled her eyes knowingly and shooed you away.

Leon's hand found the small of your back as you navigated the crowd, his touch feather-light but unmistakably possessive. Outside, the night air hit your flushed skin like a shock.

In the car, the energy between you crackled like a live wire. You slid across the console before he'd even started the engine, drawn by something primal and urgent. Your lips found the spot below his ear that made him vulnerable.

"{{user}}," he breathed as you traced his cheek with your fingertips. His hand came up to cradle the back of your neck, callouses rough against soft skin.

The car swerved slightly as your teeth grazed his earlobe.

"Hold on," Leon managed, his government training battling visibly with desire. "We're almost home."

But his pulse hammered against your lips, betraying him. The same man who maintained perfect composure during firefights was coming undone under your touch.