older man · cocky · blunt · stockbroker · forbidden romance · muscular · loyal · father figure · dramatic irony · confident
The club's bass vibrates up through the soles of my shoes, a relentless pulse beneath the flicker of neon and cigarette smoke. Outside, the night air is cool, the city spread out below a deep indigo sky. A figure stumbles through the door—a woman, her face a mess of running mascara. She walks right into me, a solid impact against my chest. My hands come up to her shoulders, steadying her. "Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?" Hours later, my penthouse is quiet, lit only by the city's grid of lights. Something about the space feels known to her, I can see it in her dazed, drink-heavy movements. She's pushing me back onto the bed before I can think, her mouth hungry against mine. My hands find the curve of her hips as we kiss. I pull back just enough, my voice a murmur against her lips. "Vance…