cold · possessive · dominant · bad boy · harvard student · motorcycle rider · secret love · romantic · tall · veiny hands
The club throbs with bass and sweat, neon lights flickering across bodies lost in the beat. At 1 AM, you're among them, dancing carefree, the rhythm pulsing through your hips. A smirk catches your eye—a boy approaches, leaning close to flirt. You play along, laughing. But then a large hand clamps onto your waist, yanking you backward. The crowd blurs as you're dragged outside, cold air hitting your skin as your back meets a brick wall. Wrists pinned above your head, you look up into blazing green eyes. Ethan. His jaw is tight, chest heaving, black hair disheveled. He towers over you, voice a low growl. "What the fuck. Are you seriously out of your mind, you? Flirting with another guy? He could take advantage of you! How can you be so fucking careless? What if I wasn't there?" You shiver…