Amber POV

I stepped into the bar, exchanging the chill of the evening air for the warmth of the lights and the chatter of customers having drinks. I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, squinting as I scanned through the tables to find my friends. The sting of betrayal, sharp as ever, lingered after the ordeal in Liam’s apartment this morning.

I had called Ginny, sobbing and telling her what happened, unable to even utter his name. I was hoping she’d bring sad movies, ice cream and comforting words. Instead, after a long, very necessary nap, I was awoken by my phone buzzing incessantly with a clear instruction: Come to Dutch Bar by 8 p.m., dress well.

Now here I was, making my way to the table where Ginny was waving at me, when I’d rather be buried under my blankets on bed. I got there to see her seated with Jane and Lilah, and they had drinks in front of them.

“We heard the good news from Ginny, so we came to celebrate,” Jane started, a bright smile on her lips as she raised her martini, her curls bobbing.

I stopped in my tracks. “I broke up with my fiancé, Ginny. That’s not good news,”

Ginny pulled my hand, dragging me to settle on a stool beside hers. “Exactly, it is good that you broke up. Liam was a walking red flag, and we tried telling you.”

“I mean, he only proposed after he found out you were saving for your future.. Who does that? ” Jane frowned, brows furrowed in disgust

“A total sleaze bag. You dodged a bullet Amby!” Lilah chimed in, sipping the drink in her hand.

Heat crept up my neck as the memory of that tiny ring in that tiny apartment made my stomach churn. I was truly blinded by love, and not in a good way.

“And the nerve,” Jane continued, huffing in indignation, “calling you boring after he cheated on you? I want to personally show him what boring looks like.”

The shared fury of my friends made the heartache I felt dull. But guilt also clawed at my chest.

“It’s okay, guys,” I said, my voice low. “I’m sorry for not listening to you all back then.” I lowered my eyes, my chest tightening. “However, I can’t stop thinking of where I went wrong. I loved Liam with my very being, and I did everything I could to match up to his demands… Why wasn’t I enough?”

As I muffled a sob with my hands, I felt them circle around me with a warm hug.

“Don’t cry over that loser again, he doesn’t deserve it,” Ginny said firmly once they pulled away, and I nodded, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

Lilah squeezed my shoulder. “You’re stunning. Anyone would kill to be with you. It’s his loss.”

“And lucky us, cos we have our friend back” Jane added, smirking at the bartender who served a tray of shots.

I looked at the mini cup hesitantly, my stomach churning with dread. Liam never liked me drinking, so I’d stopped entirely for him. Now I hardly know what my tolerance was.

“I don’t want to, guys,” I refused, pushing the tray away and eliciting frowns. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

“Which is the problem,” Lilah doubled down, sliding one toward me. “You’ve been living like a nun.”

“Now’s your chance to live it up again. Don’t hold yourself back.” Ginny’s voice echoed in my ears, a silent nudging.

I stared at it for a long moment, contemplating the consequences. Though I’d feel sick tomorrow morning, I couldn’t refuse anymore on seeing my friends’ eager eyes.

“Fine” I breathed, gripping the glass. “Let’s do this.”

My friends cheered around me, took a glass, did a countdown, and we all downed it in one gulp.

The liquor hit hard as it slid down my throat and I chased it with a lime slice. The sourness of the combination, electrifying. My body warmed, my chest loosened, the room softened and I smiled at the rush in my system.

Ginny leaned in, eyes gleaming as she threw her hand around my neck. “Let your night of freedom begin!”

******

Many shots later, my head pounded hard and the room spun around me so much that I held onto Ginny for support. My friends, however, were on a roll and full of energy, earning even side glances from the few customers remaining in the bar.

“We should probably start going now,” I muttered lowly, dragging Lilah off an empty table close by.

“Noooo,” she grumbled, pushing me off and flopping back on the stool. “We’re having your freedom party! The fun is yet to begin.”

“Yeahhh,” Ginny burped then giggled, Jane joining in the laugh.

I frowned, steadying myself. “What more can we do now that we’re drunk? Let’s crash at my place.”

Jane stood up with a glass, pushing it to my lips to take a gulp. “You haven’t made your revenge list yet.”

I wiped my lips, cringing from the bitterness that invaded my senses. “Revenge list?”

“Yes! We did it back in college, remember?” Ginny said, her eyes lit up with recognition. “Ten things to do to get back at your ex!”

“That was cute while we were twenty. I turn thirty in three weeks.” I deadpanned.

“Which is exactly why you need to do it, Amby! You spent your late twenties trapped, so now that you’re free… just live a little.” Jane lectured, pulling a napkin from a nearby table and asking for a pen from the bartender.

I let out a sigh, feeling even more dizzy as I watched what she wrote in bold: TEN WAYS AMBER WILL GET BACK AT LIAM.

Lilah raised a finger, looking profoundly serious. “I think, number one should be: get laid.”

I choked, eyes wide as Jane wrote the first item with a smirk:

1. Get laid.

Ginny nodded, clinking her glass with mine. “Cheers to that!”

“Wait,” I said, laughing nervously as I held Jane’s hand, “I’m not… this isn’t…”

She waved me off. “Hush, Amber, you need this. Did Liam even think of you for a second while he was screwing that girl? No he didn’t, even when he knew you were coming that morning. So do this for yourself.”

“Besides,” Lilah interjected, “I am offended he found you boring because I know he can’t handle you. So you need to prove him wrong.”

I stared at the words on the napkin, my heart thudding in my chest as a mix of emotions swirled within me. If he paid no heed to me, his fiancé, even after I caught him, why was I still being a prude?

“I bet Amber can even snag someone here tonight if she wants to,” Ginny mused, wiggling her brows at me. “After all, ever since she pulled off her coat, a few stares have flown in her direction.”

My eyes moved past them to scan the room, and true to her words, a few guys glanced away.

One man didn’t , he held my gaze and I couldn’t look away.

He was seated casually against the wall, dark hair messy, sharp jawline, and brooding eyes that saw only me. He looked like the opposite of every safe choice I had ever made, he looked like danger distilled. My pulse hit a weird rhythm, my legs turning to jelly at the intensity of his gaze and a warm feeling curled below my abdomen.

“Oh, he’s intense. I like him already.” Lilah leaned in with a smirking.

“Go on,” Jane nudged me hard. “Talk to him. Don’t chicken out.”

I swallowed hard. At first I would have refused, but now my thoughts were… why not?

I had nothing to lose anyway, so maybe a night with a man like him was exactly what I needed. I grabbed Ginny’s glass for courage, ignored their excited squeals, and walked toward him on unsteady feet and reckless impulse.

He didn’t look away once, his gaze growing more intense with each step I took to him. I stopped in front of his table, heart hammering like it wanted out of my ribs.

“Would you like a toast?”

⚠️ WARNING: The following scene contains explicit romantic and intimate content.

Amber POV

The man didn’t answer immediately. His eyes trailed me slowly, as if he could read every intention I hadn’t yet decided to have. Each second stretched, unnerving me, as I waited for this man's verdict. A silent, desperate voice in my head prayed I wouldn't end up more embarrassed than betrayed.

His eyes dropped to the shot glass in my hand, then rose back to meet mine.

“A toast?” he repeated, his voice deep and amused. “To what?”

My mouth went dry, my brain still buzzing from alcohol, as I struggled to come up with a reasonable response.

A small, unreadable smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, an intense glint flashing in his eyes.

“Can’t figure it out?” he murmured.

I huffed out a weak laugh, rubbing my shoulders as my neck heated up. “You could say that.”

He gestured to the empty seat across from him. “Sit. Let’s figure it out.”

My pulse fluttered at the firmness beneath his words, and I sat, placing the glass on the table and rubbing my palms together. From this corner, the bar noise softened, fading into the background like we’d stepped into a different world entirely. Now I could see him up close, and study his striking features.

“You look like you’re celebrating something,” he began.

“Really? I’m trying to,” I admitted, my voice low against the hum of the bar. “I broke up.”

His brow arched. “Is that so?”

I nodded, and he leaned forward, signaling to the waiter. “Then we’re celebrating your freedom. We need something better than this.”

The waiter returned, and he whispered something into his ear, nodding and leaving. The waiter then returned with a tray of champagne, and I let out a small gasp, watching as he placed two glasses and poured the wine with precision.

“Isn’t this too much?” I commented.

“For your freedom?” He placed a glass in my hand. “No.”

I reached for the glass, my hands brushing his, and my breath hitched. He only smirked, withdrawing his hand and lifting his own. “To freedom.”

I clinked mine against his, taking a sip with him, though I could still feel his gaze on my mouth. My pulse raced as the intensity of his gaze increased, and I couldn't help but swallow more of the bubbly champagne.

“How long,” he asked, swirling his glass lazily, “have you been trying to forget him?”

The question struck me, my hands freezing mid-air. I lowered my gaze, focusing on the glass which had a small amount of liquid left.

“Not long enough,” I muttered.

Before I could continue talking, I felt his hand swoop under my chin, forcing it to meet his stormy eyes, and my heart stopped.

“Then how can I be of help?” he whispered, causing my stomach to tighten.

“Help… how?” I stuttered, struggling to rein in my thoughts that ran wild from his touch.

He eyed my lips openly this time, before moving lower then back up.

“You already know how. Don’t you, Amber? Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” He leaned close to my ear, his breath sending tingles down my spine.

I stared at him, unable to pull back from his touch. There was something unsettling about him, the way his eyes tracked my every movement and took complete control of this moment. And yet, rather than being afraid, I was drawn in.

“How do you know my name?” I forced out, unable to deny his words earlier. “I don’t recall telling you since we started talking.”

“I know how you’re looking at me.” His smile deepened, dangerous and private, as his thumb brushed lightly over my lower lip.

I hadn’t noticed, but he was right. His hand now trailed my hair gently, like a silent way of teasing.

“And I know,” he whispered, leaning in until his breath grazed my ear, “that you want a distraction from heartbreak… not small talk.”

He stretched his hand towards me. “So let me be your companion.”

The air thinned between us, heat pooling low and heavy between my legs as I looked into his eyes. However, as I was about to agree, a flicker of responsibility tugged at me.

I placed my hand on his chest, creating distance. “I can’t go… my friends are still here.”

I turned slightly, for the first time since I sat with him, to see my friends' laughter grow louder. The three of them stumbled toward the back of the bar, toward the tiny door with a restroom sign, and staggered in, too drunk to even glance in my direction.

A small knot of panic tightened in me. “I need to check on them…”

“You don’t have to,” he cut in quietly, his voice low as his gaze followed mine. “I'll ensure they are safely taken care of. You, however, are coming with me.”

That single, dominant promise of control was my undoing. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the heartbreak, but suddenly, I wanted him more than I’d wanted anything else in months.

His eyes flicked down, searching for a silent agreement before his hand slid to the back of my neck, warm and firm, and he lifted me.

And without another word, he led me out of the bar.

*********

The room we were in was located above the bar, which surprised me because I didn’t know the bar had places like that. It was small and dark, but I barely had time to register the expensive scent of leather and clean smoke as he placed me on the ground then moved his hands to my waist, pulling me flush against him.

His lips engulfed mine in a claiming kiss, his tongue skillfully dominating mine and shattering my senses. I gulped in air in between, unable to keep up, but the man kept going, pushing my back until I hit the wall.

My fingers dug into his shoulders, heat suffocating every thought I’d ever held about being “proper and gentle.” Since he was meeting my rebellion with dominance, I had only one option: escalate. I wrapped my hands around his neck, pressing my body fiercely against his chest, leaning into the kiss with desperate, bruising intensity.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, Amber,” he growled against my lips.

“Bring it on,” I breathed.

That earned me a low chuckle that vibrated straight through me, and he pulled away.

His coat dropped, followed by his jacket, then his shirt, revealing a pair of chiseled chests and six-pack abs. He eyed my figure shamelessly, eliciting a small gasp as his hands slid to the V-neck of my gown, over my breast, then to my back to zip it down.

The dress slid off, revealing my figure, and the coldness of the room hit my skin. He wrapped his arms around me, trailing kisses down my neck.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured against my skin.

“I’m drunk,” I replied, tilting my head for more access.

“You’re turned on,” he corrected, sliding his hands to slip through my underwear, eliciting a low moan from me. “You were already soaking wet while we were talking… weren’t you?”

His hands slipped in before I could speak, and all thoughts in my head fizzled out as he began moving in and out, and my nails dug into his skin.

“Please,” I whispered, my throat dry as the pleasure made me weak in my knees.

“You want me. Say it, Amber,” he ordered, his voice a gravelly demand.

I managed a breathless nod. “Yes… I want you. Please,” I repeated the desperate word, my mind blurring as he lifted me like I weighed nothing.

He moved to the bed, dropping me to bounce against it. His firm hands gripped my breasts, kneading them harshly whilst the other hand slipped my pants off. I was a mess, letting out breathless moans as his lips found my heat, sucking it mercilessly.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded, and my legs flew apart, though they wanted to close. I fell powerless to the bed while he went deeper.

He went on, switching between his hands and his lips, and by the time he was done, I was already mentally far away. I wanted to speak out, but I felt a harder length press against my entrance.

“Wait… I’m not…” I said faintly, looking up to meet his gaze.

His eyes were dangerously dark and attractive, his breaths in shallow bursts as he stroked his shaft slowly. The veins on it throbbed, and the tip was already leaking, making me feel the urge to lick it up.

He released it, propping his hands by my sides to hover above me, his eyes glinting with something wicked.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. How rude of me,” he remarked, trailing his fingers around my thighs.

Suddenly, he gripped each thigh, wrapping it around his waist, and pressing his shaft against my clit. He moved slowly, lubricating it with the juices that squirted out from me, while seizing my lips in a slow kiss.

This man was definitely more dangerous than I thought.

“Can I f*** you?” he uttered in my ears, his breath fanning against my skin and sending shocks through my body.

This was crazy… He is crazy. But then again, the past 24 hours had been crazier than I expected. So what was one more thing to add to that list? I was gaining something this time as well.

“Yes, please,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his with resolution.

And from then on, the rest of the night was a blur of kisses, manhandling, breathless moans, and a man who ruined me thoroughly.

Amber’s POV

My head was pounding before my eyes even opened, and it was more than the usual headaches I have. The pain was sharp and pulsing, the kind that comes as punishment after making wrong choices.

I groaned, pressing my palm to my forehead, forcing my eyes open to see the low lighting, feel the soft sheets on my skin, and then a scent of clean smoke I didn’t recognize at first. That is, until I turned my gaze to the bare chest beside me, and my stomach plummeted.

Oh God, no.

The memories from last night flickered back in cruel fragments: the champagne, his hands on my body, his mouth on my skin, and the way I’d shamelessly begged for more of him. I slapped a hand over my mouth as shame washed over me, hot and sour.

“What have I done?” I whispered, lifting the sheets higher to cover the redness of my cheeks.

In all my movements, the man remained unmoving. I turned slowly to face him, letting out a breath of relief on seeing that he was just deeply asleep, an arm thrown over his head with an unnerving, absolute calm that seemed impossible after the violence of our night.

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I squeezed my legs together as those vivid memories of him inside me filled my head once again. One thing was certain: he was very capable, because I had not felt this… satisfied in months, even with Liam.

I cringed at my thoughts, especially because I allowed someone I barely knew to sleep with me and I didn’t even know his name. And worse, I had let him take me away while my friends were heavily drunk and unaware of their surroundings. I’d trusted a stranger’s promise without a second thought.

A wave of panic shot through my body.

“What if they never made it home like he said? What if something happened to any of them?” Questions flew through my mind.

I sat up too quickly, eliciting a sharp pain from my clit up my body and worsening the already pulsing pain in my head.

“Shit,” I said, placing both hands on the bed to steady myself as the room spun around me.

Once the pain reduced, I pressed a hand to the wall, standing up with every strength I could muster. Every part of me ached now that I was standing; my thighs, hips, shoulders.

I glanced at the man in the bed again, watching him sleep like someone who’d been perfectly sedated. While a part of me wanted to be concerned, the other saw this as a blessing because he wouldn’t see me leave.

I limped away from the bed, scanning the room for my dress and my underwear. I found my dress, a silk casualty, crumpled on the floor, the zipper slightly torn. I winced as I pulled the ruined fabric over my aching body. After that, I searched for my panties but couldn't find it so I picked what I could find, which were my shoes by the door, and my bag which was half-open, lip gloss sprawled out along with my phone.

I winced as I reached for it, trying not to scream from the pain that mounted on my hips, but then my phone lit up with a notification. I saw five missed calls from work and eight unread texts.

Another call came in, and a sharp curse slipped out of my mouth as I covered the speaker quickly to muffle the ringtone, heart racing as I switched it to silent mode. It was currently 10 a.m., which meant I was supposed to be at the office two hours ago.

I was already in trouble with this whole one-night stand thing. Would I also have to walk into the office looking like a hungover raccoon while giving an explanation to HR as well?

Why didn’t I just wait until Friday to go out?

Another text buzzed in from my colleague:

Sonia: Where are you?? The boss is already around and asking for you.

Ice slid down my spine, and I arranged myself as quietly as possible, tiptoeing toward the door. I paused with my hand on the handle, a silent but stupid desire to look behind one last time, to see the man who had been nothing but a shadow of forbidden thrill and seduction in the morning light. But I was already late, so I didn’t.

Instead, I opened the door and slipped out, closing it silently behind me, and then I bolted down the dim hallway, through the club that reeked of last night’s liquor, and into the cold morning air that slapped me hard across the face.

I stopped at the bus stop, ignoring pointed glances from other commuters as I waited for the next bus. Digging my phone out again, I winced at the rough reflection in a dark window and remedied what I could while my mind ran in circles at the next thing to do.

It was already too late to go home, so the best bet was going to resume at work for now. I unlocked my phone, moving to the contacts to call Sonia, as she’s the only person who could help me out now. My legs trembled as I waited for her to pick up, the soreness impossible to ignore as I got on the bus, finally grateful for an opportunity to sit though it was a pain as well.

“Where are you, Amber?” she gritted in my ears, her voice tight on picking up my call. “I stalled for time, but the boss is not in a good mood.”

“I’m so, so sorry, Sonia!” I pleaded frantically. “My friends invited me for a night out, and things got crazy. I’m on my way now, but I need a favor.”

I heard a disappointed sigh from the other end. “Girl, you know better. We don’t do that on a weekday!”

“I know, but the situation kind of warranted it,” I added, a weak defense to my crumbling case because I did know better.

The line went silent for a while before she spoke again. “What do you want?”

A wave of relief flooded through me, happy that she was willing to help.

“The thing is, I’m still in my dress because I just left this morning… do you have spare clothes? I can’t come in like this,” I asked, and I heard her let out a sigh.

“I promise to replace them… pinky promise, please,” I continued, making my voice soft so it could melt her heart.

“Fine,” she gave in. “But girl, you got to tighten up. Text me when you get there.”

Shame tightened around my chest as I nodded, thanking her and ending the call. The embarrassment I experienced was because of that Godforsaken man.

And yet… For a man I wanted to forget, he had taken up far too much space in my body… and my mind.

How pathetic. I need to lock in.

I shook my head hard, tapping my cheeks to bring myself out of that moment.

“No,” I muttered to myself. “I’m not tripping over a one-night stand. I need to delete last night from my brain COMPLETELY.

I forced the thought down, burying it deep.

That man was nothing but a mistake; a reckless, impulsive decision I would never repeat.

But deep down… I had a feeling he wouldn’t make it that easy.