The music resonated deep in the bar, a smooth beat moving Noah's hips as he danced with ease. The dim neon lighting threw an irresistible glow across his skin, his sweat-soaked shirt sticking to his chiseled body as he danced—no, flirted—with each pair of eyes in the room.
But Kai was not merely observing.
He was devouring.
Sitting in the private booth, his jaw clenched, his fingers curling tightly around his glass of whiskey, Kai's darkened gaze never left Noah. The way Noah swayed, teasingly running his hands down his chest, licking his lips between drinks—every movement was a provocation, deliberate and intoxicating.
And it was working.
Noah, already tipsy, caught Kai's hungry stare and smirked. With slow, deliberate steps, he sauntered over to where Kai sat, sliding onto his lap without hesitation. The scent of alcohol and something purely Noah filled Kai's senses, making it harder to resist the pull between them.
