002 – HOT MAKE-OUT SESSION

ROSE'S POV 

The loud music assaults my ear, the scent of expensive cologne and sweat fills my nostrils, the whole speed of clubbers and activities around me, literally kicks me off balance. it doesn't feel real. It's as if I'm a spectator watching myself from the outside. I'm about to do something reckless, but it's all I've thought about for weeks.

Each step toward the VIP lounge feels like an act of rebellion. The bouncer blocks my path, but to my surprise, he gives me a small nod and steps aside. He parts the rope and I'm inside. I can barely believe it. I'm here, standing beside him.

This is everything my mother warned me against–the exact things I was taught to avoid. I wasn't supposed to walk up to a man like this, I wasn't supposed to wear such revealing outfit in public, nor have any kind of intimate encounter until I was married.

"Hi...uhm, I'm sorry about...this." my voice shakes slightly as I struggle to sound confident but fail.

The man shifts on the couch, looking up as I step in.

"I...uh, I didn't mean to come into your space uninvited." A nervous laugh slips from my lips. I don't know if that's endearing or awkward.

 

He raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "It's okay. Not the first time something like this has happened." His voice is calm yet slightly teasing. "But to be honest, it's unlike the bouncer to let anyone in without checking with me first."

I let out relieved sigh, my hands still clasped together firmly. "I guess... I'm not like other people here?" I bit my lip, my gaze dropping to the floor, unable to meet his gaze.

His green eyes gleam brighter. "You don't seem like other clubbers, right?" His eyes takes me in, but there's no judgement in them. Instead there's curiosity. "Most people come here to escape something. But you...you seem like you're searching for something." 

"Yeah. I don't know." My pulse steadies as I step closer. "So, you've got a name for the mysterious guy sitting in the VIP section all night? What's your deal huh? You're a regular or just passing through?"

 He relaxes in his seat, clearly undisturbed, but a warm, controlled smile covers his face. "Ryan." He sips his whiskey, and stares into space for a moment as if caught off guard by the question. "Yeah... I'm simply passing through. Got a call from my brother, I guess. Came into town about a month ago to sort out some family stuff. Haven't decided yet if I'm sticking around."

 He stops talking, but his gaze stays fixed on me, almost as if waiting for me to say something–probably to judge him for not helping his family. 

But I won't. Not tonight. This is his family, and I'm not that Rose–the one who judges. I step closer, feeling braver now.

 

As though hearing my thoughts, he nods and smiles slowly. "But I'm curious." He leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to an intimate tone. "Why did you come over here? You don't exactly look like you belong in this part of the club."

"I... I just... there's something about you that caught my attention." I say, trying to sound casual, but I'm not fooling either of us. My stomach is full of butterflies. "And now I'm standing here like a lost girl."

"No." He taps the seat beside him, indicating there's room for me. "Don't say that."

Stepping further into the VIP section, I trip over a cable and fall to the floor. Before, I can fully hit the floor, his arms wraps around my waist, steadying me. I can't stop myself from smiling nervously. "I'm not used to this kind of...attention." I blurt out, my words rushing out before I could stop them.

He nods calmly, guiding me to the couch, and then slowly releases his grip, leaving a comfortable distance between us as he sits back. "You don't seem lost to me." The corners of his eyes crinkles as he smiles. "You seem like someone who knows exactly what she wants. And I have to admit, I find that attractive."

I lower my voice, teasing him as well. "Maybe, I don't want what I've always known. Maybe I want something different." 

Upclose, his features are so striking, it almost hurts to look away.

He stares intently at me for a long moment. "You know, it's not just you–you're not the only one looking for something different." His voice sounds thoughtful and I see something deeper in his gaze–something that wasn't there before. Strands of golden blonde hair falls over his face as he leans in, his voice sincere. "Seems like you've got a script in mind but you're not really sticking to it huh?"

My eyes widen. How did he see through me? "I don't know why I came here. I'm not like..." I hesitate, the words catching in my throat. Vulnerability creeps into my voice. "Most people here. I'm supposed to be..." I glance away, embarrassed at my own thoughts. "But sometimes I wonder if I'm just following the rules to avoid... I don't know. Breaking something. Or myself."

His hands brush mine lightly. My first instinct is to pull away, but the softness in his eyes holds me in place. He rests his hands gently over mine. "Rules are simple." He murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as though sharing a secret. "They keep you in line, makes you feel safe. But they also keep you away from feeling anything real."

He smiles, his warm touch stays on mine. "Sometimes the first step is just saying yes. Whatever that comes after we deal with it." He grins, but there's sincerity beneath his playful demeanor. "And tonight, why not take that step?"

I hesitate, my mind spinning with doubts and uncertainty. "Maybe... I'll try."

I pause, the music slowly fading, narrowing the world down to just me and him. His brow arches, his stare lingers on my lips as I part them to speak. The air is thick with something –chemistry, tension, desire. His expensive cologne fills my senses.

I feel his thoughts before he speaks them, he's not talking about rules anymore. And this is where I should run. I open my mouth to refuse, but all I can say is. "Yes, tonight."

I know this is the moment. I watch him, eyes softening, moving closer. In the chaos of the club, surrounded by drunken bodies and flashing lights. We're isolated. Just us. My heart races, I should pull back. A stranger is about to kiss me. 

I want to say no, but my lips–my body betray me. His lips cover mine in a kiss that is so hot and barbaric, pulling me in. His hands are firm on me, pressing me into him. I feel his fingers slide against my ass, guiding me to sit over his thighs. Our tongues curl together in a tangled mess. My mind blurs with heat.

Maybe Monique was right. One night of letting loose wouldn't destroy the perfect image I've built over the years. It won't ruin the legacy my family has carefully crafted for me. I don't need to be perfect tonight. I could let myself be vulnerable–for one night. Afterall, I'll never see this stranger again.

But the kiss breaks, leaving me breathless, my thoughts as disorienting as the flashing lights, my heart pounding in my chest, faster than the bass in the speaker. What have I done?

I feel his hands glide my thighs, closer, almost to the point of danger. My pulse spikes. "Uh." I breathe, my body trembling at his touch. This is going too far, I never meant for this to happen. I shake uncontrollably, looking down at his fingers between my thighs. "I thought we are in friend zone."

"It's just a touch." He murmurs, his eyes dark with desire, and I melt into him again.

His fingers rob the edge of my panties, slowly... I bit in a moan. My body responding before my mind could catch up. As he leans in again, my body screams for me to pull away but my lips betrays me, closing the distance. His tongue finds my mouth again and thrust in. My lips move on their own accord, sucking on his button lips as he expertly kisses me and massage my ass. A moan escapes my mouth, then another. It's suddenly too hard to breath.

A flash of my mother's face appears in my mind. Would she approve of this? Ofcourse not. But...what if, just for tonight, I didn't care?

 I'm gasping for air, the kiss deepening. Urgent. My protests are swallowed by his lips as he moves to my jawline, slow and deliberate. He pulls back a little, our foreheads still pressed touching. We breathe in each other, our chests rising and falling in rhythm. 

I freeze and panic takes hold of me. What have I done? I've kissed a strange man who isn't my husband. I've broken every rule I lived by, betrayed the code my family set for me. Guilt suffocates me.

His warm hands remains on my back–a sign of  understanding that goes beyond physical moment we just shared.

 But I don't need his empty comfort. I pull away, shaking off his grip until my feet touch the ground. My head spins, the knowledge of our kiss knocks the air out of my lungs. What have I become? This isn't me, I'm not this girl. I look down to the erection between his thighs, surprised at how aroused I made him.

"A case of blue balls. Yeah, it will be a pain by tomorrow." His voice reveals the intended humor and something darker, more real. "But I can wait."

I need to leave. The thought comes as a whisper. My feet begin moving, pushing me away from him, toward the exit.

"I didn't get a name," his deep voice calls after me.

I stop, turning to face him. "Because it's not important."

"Why?" He steps closer, a subtle challenge in his voice.

"We will never see each other again." I reply. Not waiting for another question, I disappear into the crowd, the loud music vibrating in my chest. The light flashes around me, but everything feels...unreal. My breath is shallow. Why am I walking away? What do I really want? 

I stop and glance back. Ryan is still watching me, his expression hard to make out.

 And it breaks my heart because this is the end of something that never even begun. I'm surely not the same girl who walked into this club.