Lia leaned back into the soft leather seat, the car's gentle hum vibrating beneath her as they cruised through the dark city streets. The Nigerian gin from dinner still coursed through her veins, leaving a warm, languid feeling in its wake, making everything around her feel more vivid—the streetlights flickering past in soft, golden blurs, the deep rumble of the car's engine, and the close proximity of Nathan sitting beside her.
His driver, quiet and professional, was in the front, his presence distant, almost forgettable. The privacy of the tinted windows and the darkened car gave Lia the sensation that they were in their own little world, separated from reality by the haze of the alcohol and the unspoken tension that had begun to build between them the moment they left the restaurant.
She glanced at Nathan. He was relaxed beside her, his tall, broad frame barely fitting into the seat. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of his collarbone, and the fabric stretched across his chest whenever he shifted. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, as though he'd run his hands through it more than once, and his eyes—those piercing hazel eyes—flickered toward her now, meeting hers in the dim light.
There was something different in his gaze tonight. Usually, Nathan was confident, controlled, always the one with a sly remark or a teasing grin. But now, with the gin loosening his edges, he looked at her with a raw intensity that made her pulse quicken.
The car hit a slight bump, and her hand, resting on the seat between them, brushed against his. It was the barest touch, but it sent a jolt through her, her skin tingling as if it had been electrified. Nathan didn't pull away. Instead, his fingers moved, slowly, deliberately, brushing against hers again, more purposefully this time.
"Nathan," Lia said, her voice barely above a whisper, the sound swallowed by the intimate silence of the car. He shifted toward her, his body turning slightly as he rested his arm on the back of her seat, closing the distance between them. His hand, still resting near hers, slid over, fingers entwining with hers. The contact was so simple, yet it felt loaded with meaning.
"Lia," he replied, his voice low and rough, the way it always got when he was serious. But there was something else in it now—something deeper, more vulnerable, as if the gin had stripped away some of the walls he usually kept up between them. "I feel it too," he added quietly, as if reading her thoughts.
Her breath caught, her heart thudding in her chest as the meaning of his words sunk in. They both felt it—this simmering tension, this thing that had been building between them for what felt like forever. The gin hadn't caused it; it had just brought it to the surface, making it impossible to ignore.
The car slowed as they approached a red light, the subtle deceleration causing Nathan to lean even closer. She could smell him—clean, masculine, with just a hint of the cologne he wore. Her body reacted instinctively, drawn to him, the space between them feeling both too small and too large at the same time.
"Nathan," she whispered again, her voice trembling slightly, though she wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or the overwhelming desire curling inside her. "We shouldn't—"
"I know," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin, so close now that the heat from his body seemed to blend with hers. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, a small, tender gesture that sent a shiver up her arm. "But tell me you don't want this," he added, his voice a hushed challenge.
Lia swallowed hard. She could hear the sound of the driver shifting in his seat up front, oblivious to the charged atmosphere in the back, and the distant sound of cars passing by outside. But all of it faded into the background, drowned out by the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and the way Nathan was looking at her now—as if she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
"I..." She didn't know what to say, couldn't find the words to deny what they both knew was true. She did want this. She wanted him. She had wanted him for a long time, but there had always been reasons—reasons to keep their distance, reasons to stay on the safe side of the line they had drawn between them. But now, with the alcohol dulling her inhibitions and amplifying the pull she felt toward him, all those reasons seemed to fade away.
Nathan didn't wait for her to finish. His hand, warm and steady, cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw as he tilted her face toward him. There was a moment—a brief, breathless pause—where their eyes met, and in that single, charged second, it felt like the entire world had come to a standstill.
And then, his lips were on hers.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he was giving her one last chance to pull away. But when she didn't, when she kissed him back, everything else fell away. His hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. His mouth was warm and firm against hers, and the taste of the gin still lingered on his lips, mixing with the intoxicating heat of the moment.
Lia's hands moved instinctively, sliding up his arm, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, and then higher, her fingers threading through his hair as she pressed closer to him. She could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, hear the small, involuntary sound he made in the back of his throat as their kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more heated.
"Nathan," she breathed against his lips, her voice shaky with both desire and the weight of what was happening.
"Lia," he whispered back, his lips brushing hers as he spoke, his forehead resting against hers for a brief, charged second before he kissed her again, harder this time, as though he couldn't get enough of her.
The car slowed again, the city lights outside casting fleeting shadows across their faces as they pulled to a stop. The driver said nothing, leaving them in their private cocoon, where only the sound of their breath and the quiet murmur of the city outside existed.
