Rhea POV:
The air in the washroom was thick with anticipation, the scent of expensive perfume and a faint trace of cologne swirling together in a heady mix. Raven's heart raced as she ran her hands over the sleek fabric of her dress, the silk gliding effortlessly over her skin. It wasn't revealing, but the thigh-high slit was a deliberate choice, a playful tease that had clearly caught his attention. She could feel his eyes on her all night, the intensity of his gaze leaving her both exhilarated and unsettled. Now, as she turned to leave the washroom, she found herself face-to-face with the man who had been on her mind for hours.
He was standing there, blocking her path, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. His gaze, dark and unwavering, held her in place like an unspoken command. Raven's breath caught as she met his eyes, her pulse quickening under the weight of his silent yearning. She knew he had been holding back, his restraint barely contained. But now, it seemed, he was done waiting.
"You've been driving me crazy all night," he said, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine. There was frustration in his tone, a raw edge that made her knees feel weak. "I can't take it anymore."
Before she could respond, before she could even process his words, he was right in front of her. His hand pressed against the wall beside her head, caging her in. Raven's back arched slightly, feeling the warmth of his body so close, his presence filling the small space. His eyes locked onto hers, burning with an intensity that left no doubt about his intentions.
His lips found hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle—urgent and demanding, a collision of need and desire that made her head spin. She didn't even have time to brace herself before his kiss deepened, the force of it catching her completely off guard. His hands moved, pulling her closer, as though he couldn't get enough of her.
Her fingers instinctively tangled in the fabric of his jacket, trying to hold herself steady as the world around her blurred. The kiss was overwhelming, intoxicating, and she could feel the weight of his longing in every touch. It was as though he had been waiting for this moment all night, and now, he was determined to savor every second of it.
His other hand slid down her back, possessive and firm, pulling her even closer. She could feel the heat of his body, the way it pressed against hers, and it made her pulse race with every heartbeat. His lips moved along her neck, trailing soft kisses that sent a wave of heat through her.
"I've wanted this all night," he murmured against her skin, his voice rough. "I can't stop thinking about you."
The intensity of his words made her heart race. She had felt the electric charge between them all evening, but hearing him say it aloud—his desire, raw and unfiltered—had her breath catching in her throat. His lips found the sensitive spot just behind her ear, his breath hot against her skin, making her shudder with need.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes intense as they locked with hers. "I need you," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "Right here. Right now."
Raven's eyes fluttered closed as his touch became more deliberate, his fingers grazing her skin, teasing her. She felt the cool air on her exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his touch. Her body responded to him, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. She could feel the tension building between them, the desire swirling around them like a storm waiting to break.
"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice thick with desire. "And you're mine tonight. All mine."
Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of excitement and surrender. She could feel the heat of his touch and the intensity of his desire, and it made her pulse race even faster.
His hand moved with slow, deliberate movements, tracing patterns that made her shiver. Raven's head fell back, her breath coming in ragged gasps as his touch sent jolts of pleasure through her. She could feel his body pressing against hers, his own desire just as evident.
"Please," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with yearning.
His lips curved into a satisfied smirk. "Say it again," he commanded, his voice barely a whisper. "Say you want me."
Raven's cheeks flushed, but she didn't hesitate. "I want you," she breathed, her voice steady, though her heart was racing. "I want you so much."
He didn't need any more encouragement. His lips crashed back onto hers, and his hand moved with a practiced, confident touch. She felt her body reacting to him, the tension in her core building with every passing second. She couldn't pull away even if she wanted to—every part of her was drawn to him, craving more.
His kiss deepened, urgent and possessive, but there was still a tenderness to it that left her breathless. His touch was electric, and with each movement, she felt herself losing control, surrendering to the fire between them.
Just as the moment seemed to reach its peak, Raven heard the sound of footsteps—footsteps that stopped just outside the door. Her body tensed. They weren't alone.
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged, and for a split second, they just stood there, listening to the muffled sounds of the party beyond the washroom door. Raven's heart was still racing, her body still trembling from the intensity of his touch.
He looked at her, his expression a mix of desire and something darker—something dangerous.
"Don't go," he whispered, his voice low and almost a plea. "Not yet."
The footsteps outside grew louder. Raven's mind raced. What were they doing? She could feel the tension in the air, thick and almost suffocating, as if the world outside the washroom no longer mattered. Only the two of them existed in that moment. But could they keep going? Could they risk everything for this?
Before she could decide, the door handle began to turn.
SPLASH.
Water drenched me, yanking me out of the novel I was reading.
"What the hell?!" I shouted, blinking at the cold, dripping mess. I looked up to find a guy in a suit—one of those guys whose outfit screamed money.
"I didn't know librarians were allowed to scream in the library," he said, voice oozing with smugness.
If I wasn't so pissed off, I might've actually admired his expensive looks. But no, not right now. I was fuming.
"Why the hell did you pour water on me?" I demanded.
He rolled his eyes as though I was wasting his precious time. And oh, he was definitely that kind of guy—the one who thinks every second counts, like time is money.
"Will you scan this damn book already, or I'll call your manager!" he snapped, his tone all entitlement.
Can you believe that? He doused me in water, interrupted the most exciting part of my novel, and now he was treating me like I was the one being unreasonable!