Chapter 2: Confident

Hana

"How is a woman like you alone here?"

His question brings me back to reality. I remember Nathan and how everything is still so fresh. Even without meaning to, his words push me away. I straighten my posture and formally position myself before his gaze. He notices but doesn’t question it. He just waits for a response to come out of my mouth.

I think about using some generic phrase, but I have no patience to pretend I'm okay for another second.

"To be honest, my boyfriend broke up with me today." The words leave me painfully.

I reach for the drink he previously offered and down it in one gulp. Even slightly warm, it’s still delicious. "Is it pineapple?" I ask the bartender, but John steps in and answers:

"Pineapple, clove, cinnamon, basil." His hand remains lightly on mine, and he begins to glide his thumb over my skin. "It’s an aphrodisiac. You might want to take it easy… Unless you have other intentions." He removes the empty glass from my hands and hands it back to the bartender.

A shiver runs through my body again. I don’t know what to do or how to act—it’s all so confusing.

"And what is your intention in giving it to me specifically?" I surprise myself with how everything sounds almost… erotic. They’re common words, but he makes them seem like something more.

"I’m not a man of pretense, Hana. I’ll be honest with you." He takes a serious stance, and his commanding voice stands out. "From the moment I saw you, I decided I needed to have you for myself."

"You speak of me as if I were an object," I counter, and he doesn’t seem to like it, but he’s too invested to back down now. "I imagine many women throw themselves at your feet. I won’t be one of them."

He smiles in response, actually amused by what I said.

"You don’t have to pretend, love. We both want the same thing." He whispers in my ear before standing up. I feel a twinge between my legs. Damn, his cologne is delicious.

"You’re very sure of yourself, Kauer." I follow and stand before him so he won’t notice how much he affects me. "You barely know me. How can you be so sure of what I want?"

He takes advantage of the crowd that covers us and pulls me to the side of the bar, where it’s more secluded.

"I know, Hana, because you haven’t stopped squeezing your thighs together since you saw me," he almost whispers, his chest pressed against mine as he pins me against the wall. "I notice the signs your body gives, and from what I can tell, it’s almost begging me to fuck you right now."

How dare he? He’s so… insolent. He leaves me dizzy, and unfortunately, I’m too preoccupied with what might happen to defend my honor. So the only words that escape my lips are:

"What’s stopping you, John?"

The words slip out, and I barely recognize myself. I don’t know what happened, but from the moment I met him, another personality took over—acting recklessly and dangerously, totally different from how I’ve behaved my entire life.

Still, it’s hard to say I don’t like this new version of me. Especially when I see John’s reaction. His green eyes darken, and it’s as if he, like me, has become someone else.

His hand moves up my bare back, tracing the entire length of my heated skin. He tangles his fingers in my hair and claims me with unexpected aggression—but it’s more than welcome. I feel his tongue savoring my lips as if they were his favorite meal.

Our mouths nearly become one, and I have to hold back the moans that threaten to escape each time he presses me against the obvious erection already straining in such a short time.

I explore his mouth with curiosity, just as I’ve wanted to explore his entire body since the moment I met him. And when I find myself physically begging for more, he suddenly pulls away.

I watch him with suspicion, wary of the reason behind his retreat.

"Did I do something wrong?" I ask, foolish, naïve, as if I don’t know how to kiss.

"Do you think you did something wrong, my sweet?" He guides my hand to his cock, hard as stone, nearly tearing through the fabric of his tailored pants.

My mouth waters in a purely genuine, unexpected reaction. My body is begging for more, almost forcing me to say the same with words.

"I don’t want to do this here. Will you come with me?" He asks, extending his hand to me. And completely driven by emotion, I follow him.

We aren’t seen, and I prefer it that way. The valet hands him the car keys—a stunning silver Lamborghini that, unsurprisingly, matches his personality. As dazzling as it is, it doesn’t impress me. I knew he was rich the moment I spotted the Rolex on his wrist.

My reasons are different, and none of them involve money.

I send Alice a message letting her know I’ll be out for the night. No further details—I’ll worry about what to say later.

I feel the wind against my face, and the sensation is both exhilarating and slightly terrifying. I’m in a stranger’s car, a man I’ve only known for a few hours, yet my body seems to recognize him from other lifetimes.

He handles the wheel with skill, while one hand rests on my thigh, covered by the fabric of my dress. He squeezes it now and then, making my insides beg to feel his touch elsewhere.

I don’t pay attention to the route we take, but everything is breathtaking. Atlantic City is even more enchanting at night. The beaches are stunning, the building lights illuminate the busy streets—it’s an open-air spectacle.

The drive is quick. He stops in front of a luxurious hotel, the kind I probably could never afford to visit if not in the company of someone like John.

The staff greets him as if he’s famous here, and we quickly reach the suite—if I can even call it that. Nearly taking up an entire floor, the place is a resort in paradise. The ocean view, the elegant decor—everything makes me feel like I’m dreaming.

But the moment his hands touch me, I remember just how real it is.