I saw a post on Instagram about a bar hiring staff. The place was pretty far from my apartment, but I went anyway. Because the bar was owned by Lucas Boone. My latest goal was to sleep with him. 1 I DM’d Lucas about the job posting for his bar, “Knights’ Tavern.” [Hey Lucas, your bar needs help—think I’d fit in?] Lucas replied quickly. [Having a gorgeous girl like you would be an honor. Come by tomorrow and check it out.] I met Lucas at a bar—he’s incredibly handsome, different from the usual drunk losers around him. He has this intellectual vibe that hooked me right away. The next afternoon, I stopped by his bar, but it was a total mess inside. When he saw me, he didn’t hold back. “Sorry about this, Emma. We’re finishing up renovations. Since you’re here, mind helping me put this privacy film on the windows?” “Bars work better when people can’t quite see inside—it makes them curious enough to come in, and even if they don’t love it, they might stay out of politeness. It’s all marketing.” I didn’t care what he was saying. My eyes were glued to his thighs and waist. He’s slim but works out regularly, and just looking at them made it clear how strong he is. After a few hours of work, we finally finished. Lucas told me to rest while he mixed a couple of new drinks for me to try. The dim amber lights inside made his face look even softer and more attractive as he walked over with two glasses. Lucas slid one drink in front of me. “Try this! My original creation—‘Addiction.’” I took a sip. The liquor slid smoothly down my throat—not too harsh, but it made me want another right away. “It’s really good!” I said honestly. Lucas looked thrilled, like he’d just won something, and downed his own drink in one go. He’s genuinely talented at mixing drinks—everyone who’s tried them agrees. But Lucas has zero tolerance for alcohol. He gets tipsy after just one. Sure enough, after that single drink, his eyes started to glaze over. What a perfect chance. I stood up, walked over to the hazy-eyed Lucas, lifted his chin, and pressed my lips to his. My tongue slipped into his mouth, tangling with his. Lucas quickly took control, breathing heavily as he held my head, pulling me in like he wanted to devour me. I pinched the soft spot on his waist, and he let go with a wince. “You’re drunk.” I grabbed my bag and left Knights’ Tavern. To me, men are like toys. I love watching them get seduced by me, going crazy over me. If I jump straight into bed, what’s the difference from a hookup? I thrive on that intense, teasing push-and-pull. 2 Maybe from all the built-up tension, I had a dream that night. I dreamed we were by the window at Knights’ Tavern. Lucas held me from behind, stripping off all my clothes, then spreading my long, pale legs wide in an M shape facing the street outside. People stopped to peek in, but Lucas didn’t care. He thrust hard into me from behind, over and over, until a wave of pleasure surged through my lower belly. I woke up, my thighs still trembling, the sheets beneath me soaked. I was breathing heavily, still lost in the afterglow of the erotic dream. My phone rang suddenly. It was Lucas. “Hello?” “Sorry about yesterday. I got carried away.” I stayed silent. He kept trying to fill the quiet. “I remember your place is pretty far from Knights’ Tavern. We stay open late, and it’s not safe for a girl to head home alone that late. You should rent something nearby, or if you don’t mind, you could stay with me. I’ve got a two-bedroom apartment…” “Sure.” Lucas laughed and hung up. The fish was about to bite the hook. I hoped this one wouldn’t bore me too quickly. I packed a few things, deliberately putting some sexy lingerie on top. When I got to Lucas’s place, he programmed my fingerprint into the lock and handed me a bag. “I just picked up some slippers and toiletries for you. Make yourself at home.” I glanced at the bathroom and got an idea. “Lucas, I’m all sweaty from moving. Mind if I use your shower?” Of course he didn’t say no. I purposely left my suitcase in the bedroom. Near the end of my shower, I called out like I was in a panic. He came running. “Lucas, my bra and panties are in the suitcase—you’ll see them right on top. Can you grab them for me?” His bathroom door is frosted glass with a sliding panel. I left a small gap open and stretched out my arm, still dripping with water. I’d turned on the heat lamp, and the light cast my silhouette perfectly onto the frosted door. I’m confident about my body. No way he could stay completely calm. He coughed awkwardly, then went to get them. I waited a while before he came back. I peeked out through the gap. His face was red like a ripe peach. It was the black lace set I’d carefully chosen—hollowed-out and revealing. The way his big hand gripped it made the whole thing feel erotic. He looked down and clumsily tried to pass the pieces through the gap, but I didn’t take them. Just as he opened his mouth, I slid my finger along his wrist, up to his fingertips, and took my lingerie. “Sorry, Lucas. Couldn’t quite reach.” Lucas is the type who acts proper when he’s sober. Men are all the same—they want it but pretend they don’t. 3 I changed into my bra and panties and was about to pull on a white sundress when my foot slipped. I fell hard and started crying from the pain. Lucas heard the noise from the bathroom and burst in without thinking. My dress buttons weren’t fastened yet, exposing a lot. Any other time I might have teased him more, but right now I wasn’t in the mood. My foot felt like it couldn’t move. “Lucas, it hurts!” I looked up at him, tears streaming. His gaze lingered on my chest for a few seconds before he knelt down, buttoned my dress, and scooped me up in his arms. Two steps out, he turned back to grab a fresh towel and draped it over my chest. Only then did I realize my wet hair had soaked the white fabric, making the black lace underneath completely visible. Lucas worried it might be a fracture and insisted on carrying me to the hospital. His car was parked at Knights’ Tavern—a five-minute walk even though it was close. I looked ridiculous like this and buried my face in his chest. It was summer, clothes were thin. His chest felt warm against the fabric, and I couldn’t resist leaning in and gently biting through his shirt. His body tensed, but he kept walking steadily to the car and drove to the nearest ER. Luckily, it was just a sprain. “The patient should avoid walking this week and no intense activity. You young folks shouldn’t get too wild.” I didn’t react much, but Lucas blushed deeply, quickly paid, grabbed the meds, and carried me home. He felt bad for not taking better care of me and made a huge dinner. “Have extra ribs and pork knuckles—they’re good for healing.” … That night, lying in the guest room, I got thirsty. I hopped on my good foot to the kitchen for water. Just a couple steps out the door, I saw something that made my stomach tighten—an R-rated scene. Lucas had apparently just used the bathroom and was flushing. Shirtless, he was tucking himself back into his pants when he turned and saw me. His sleepy eyes snapped wide open. “I… I forgot you were staying here! Usually no one’s home, so I don’t bother closing the door.” I pretended not to notice, turned away, and said I just wanted water. I hobbled toward the kitchen and nearly fell again. Lucas rushed over to steady me. “You didn’t wash your hands.” “Oh, sorry.” I started doubting my judgment. Lucas seemed like an innocent college guy, but the first time I saw him at the bar, my gut told me he was dangerous. Dangerous things are always the most fascinating—that’s why I wanted him.
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