All the Ways I Want You

The ice in Adrian's glass had melted, but neither moved to fix another drink.
Vivienne sat on his sofa, shoes kicked onto the rug, flicking a silver lighter over her fingers.

"You're overthinking it," she said, finally meeting his eyes. "We've spent three weeks ignoring that we want to tear each other's clothes off."
Adrian gave a dry laugh. "Fine. We do it cleanly. No dating. No lingering dinners. No personal questions."
"Obviously," Vivienne countered. "No jealousy, either. If you see me with someone else, you don't get a say."
"I won't care enough to have one. And when it runs its course, it ends."
"Deal."

Adrian stood, closing the distance between them. Vivienne didn't flinch. When his fingers grazed her jaw, her pulse jumped but her smirk held.

"One last rule," he murmured, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "The only one that matters."
"No feelings," she whispered.
"No feelings."

Then Vivienne grabbed his collar, dragging him down.

Adrian braced a hand on the cushions, crowding her into the corner. His mouth caught the hollow beneath her jaw, the scent hit him immediately, cutting straight through the faint buzz of the bourbon. Her nails dug into his shoulder, guiding him in closer as she arched against his chest.

His hand slid down, gripping the curve of her hip through her silk dress, pulling her flush against the hard line of his thigh. Friction flared between them, hot and impatient.

"Bed," Vivienne breathed against his lips, breathless but entirely in command, "or here?"
His fingers slipped under the hem of her dress, skin meeting bare heat. "Right here."

Adrian was smart enough to know where the line was, and arrogant enough to believe he'd never cross it.

It was the easiest lie they'd ever told.