In the dim room, the man’s hand moved over her waist, slow and unhurried.
"Miss Mercer, you really are gorgeous."
His voice was low and rough, a little hoarse, his eyes faintly reddened. Those sharp phoenix eyes tilted up at the corners, carrying both heat and a trace of restrained anger.
Leah Mercer curved her red lips. In her misty eyes was a teasing spark that could hook a person’s soul clean away.
Her soft hand pressed lightly against his chest, stopping him, yet her fingertips circled there on purpose. "Young Mr. Voss, satisfied?"
He suddenly gripped her slim waist and pinned her down harder. In his reddened eyes was the reflection of her flushed, breathless look, intimate and tangled, enough to make the air go soft.
He lowered his head a little, and the burning kiss melted between their lips and teeth.
From her lips,
to her shoulder,
then down to her waist.
Leah couldn’t help letting out a soft sound. His thin lips covered hers again at once, swallowing every broken whimper.
"Of course I’m satisfied."
When the floor-to-ceiling window reflected their overlapping shadows, Leah heard the man ask between breaths, "So what, you’re using me to vent?"
Leah glanced at him, smiling but not really smiling. "Young Mr. Voss has more women than anyone can count. The whole city knows you’re a playboy tycoon. Getting involved with you is my honor."
"Tch." Adrian Voss pulled her back into his arms. His rough fingers rubbed slowly over her delicate shoulder. "You mean that?"
"Mhm. You tell me." Leah lifted a brow and pushed him away.
The storm had just passed, and marks were left all over her body.
Leah casually threw on a bathrobe and leaned lazily against the sofa.
Her long hair fell over her shoulders. Her features were delicate, pretty, and coolly effortless. Her red lips pressed together lightly, and those lazy peach-blossom eyes caught the warm indoor light.
With her head tilted just a little, she looked like some innocent-looking siren who knew exactly what she was doing.
The man narrowed his eyes, grabbed a towel from the side, and wrapped it around his waist. Beads of sweat still clung faintly to his pale, lean chest.
The second Leah unlocked her phone, a large hand clamped around her waist and pulled her straight back into a warm embrace.
"What are you looking at?"
The man followed Leah Mercer’s gaze to her phone screen. It was a message from Serena Whitmore.
Just one photo.
Once she tapped it open, there it was—Serena leaning against Quinn Ashford, smiling like she was drowning in sugar and romance.
Leah even zoomed in on purpose, then let out a light little laugh at the man beside her. "Just checking out how exactly you and I got cheated on."
She and Quinn had been together forever, basically childhood sweethearts. As for Adrian Voss and Serena, they’d only gotten engaged last month.
If Leah hadn’t run into them at the bar that night, she and Adrian probably would’ve stayed like two clueless idiots, wearing their giant green betrayal hats without even knowing it.
Maybe she was just too disappointed in Quinn. So disappointed that after Adrian hinted at it, she agreed way too fast.
At that thought, Leah locked her phone screen.
Something seemed to lift away from her neck. She turned and looked back. "What are you doing?"
The man was holding the necklace Quinn had given her.
"I don’t like looking at dirty stuff."
Adrian tossed it aside casually, then leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "I’ll get you a better one."
"Sure." Leah didn’t care at all. She just lazily leaned there, looking at him with a half-smile. "So, Young Master Voss, first time getting cheated on. How’s the mood?"
Her long hair spilled over her pale shoulders. When his eyes dropped, it felt like they’d fallen into a place too deep to climb back out of.
Her figure showed faintly through the bathrobe, hidden and revealed at once, while those scattered marks on her skin made the whole scene way too suggestive.
The man’s eyes darkened. He bent down, scooped Leah into his arms, and said, "Amazing."
...
Evening was settling in outside. Leah had just finished a draft when a knock at the door cut through the quiet.