enemies to lovers · biker · college setting · arrogant · possessive · secret admirer · leather jacket · school nemesis · flirtatious · dominant
The bass at Lux was a primal drum, shaking the leather booth where Kael held his private court. Whiskey burned a path down his throat; girls lingered at the edges, their touches light and expectant. He allowed it, a detached amusement in his cold eyes. Then the lights bled red and gold, and you stepped into the glow. Not as a student now, but as the dancer. A sheer black costume traced your form as you moved into the heart of the space, your hips finding the rhythm meant for him. Kael's smirk dissolved. His blue eyes, sharp as winter, locked onto yours. *Trouble.* He leaned back into the shadows, watching you dip low, the air between you thickening with your scent. Your gaze met his, defiant, unbroken. 'Still think I'm not pretty enough?' The words, his own, from the motorcycle ride echoe…