Sage sauntered down the dimly lit street, her stiletto heels ticking a lazy rhythm against the pavement. Summer air clung warm to her bare skin, coaxing her silk dress higher along her thighs. She smiled to herself, aware of the way traffic lights seemed to tilt toward her and how the night tightened when she passed. Eyes followed. They always did.

It had been too long since anything—anyone—had gotten under her skin in the delicious way she craved. A proper, no-nonsense night was overdue. She combed her fingers through her hair and scanned the procession of bars and neon-green door lights. Bouncers posted at each threshold measured her with a look that was equal parts appraisal and surrender.

She chose the hottest spot on the strip and slid to the front. “Hey there, big guy,” she purred to the mountain at the rope, letting one lacquered fingertip draw an idle line over the firm plane of his chest. “I’m Sage. Be a gentleman and save me from waiting?”

He blinked once and smiled like a man who’d just remembered a secret. The velvet parted. “Go on, gorgeous. First round’s on us,” he rumbled, already unhooking the line. “Bar’s straight through.”

“I do love hospitality.” She brushed past with a scent like lime and heat, letting the bass curl into her bones. The club pulsed—a living, emerald-lit thing—and her hips answered it in kind as she made for the counter and ordered a martini, extra dirty, extra cold.

That’s when she saw him: tall, trimmed to perfection, a suit that actually earned its tailoring. He was half shadow, half trouble, watching her like he’d been waiting for the cue to move. When their eyes met, the room narrowed to a tunnel of green light and promise.

She crooked a finger. He crossed the space like a decision made itself. “Well, hello,” he said, voice smooth as midnight. “Christian.”

“Sage.” She tipped the glass, letting the cold bite trail down her throat. “And I’m in the mood for something worth remembering.”

“Good,” he said, the word a dark agreement. He offered a palm; she placed her hand there and tugged him to the dance floor, closing the distance until his breath warmed her cheek. His hands fit at the small of her back, confident and unhurried, and she felt the kind of chemistry that made a body lean forward without thinking.

They moved—slow grind, close heat, shared laughter—two lines drawing toward the same point. Her hips wrote little promises against him; his mouth found that secret place below her ear that made her voice go soft. The music threw green sparks, and the club fell away like scenery passing a window.

“Take me,” she whispered, not bothering to dress it up. “Home. Now.”

He didn’t waste the invitation. One look between them, and they were out beneath the city’s humid breath, sliding into a car where silence felt like foreplay. The air inside charged itself, expanding and contracting with each stolen glance. Her smile went feral.

His place was glass and steel and a view that could start a religion. The door clicked, and restraint clicked off with it. Kisses were hungry and sure; shoes and silk found the floor, forgotten. He lifted her with a low laugh she felt in her back and pinned her against the cool wall just long enough to steal another breathless sound from her throat.

They spilled to the bedroom in a tangle of green shadows and intent. The mattress met them with a soft thud; sheets twisted; the skyline drew its glittering line across the ceiling. He tasted like mint and heat. Her nails mapped the planes of his shoulders, asked for more, and got it.

He was generous and relentless, that rare combination that rewrites your idea of time. She met him with a grin that dared him to keep up. Pace increased, slowed, tightened—the language of bodies that already understood each other. Her breath hitched; his hands steadied; the room pulsed like a second heartbeat.

“Don’t stop,” she managed, half laugh, half command. He didn’t. The rhythm drove deeper, found that perfect angle, and built a wave that refused to break until she told it to. She told it to. The fall was bright and green and loud, the kind that left a ringing in its wake and a smile you couldn’t hide.

He followed with a low, satisfied sound that she wanted to collect and keep. After, they collapsed into a loose knot of limbs and heat and ridiculous grins. She kissed the line of his neck, tasting salt and victory.

“A much better night,” she murmured, nuzzling closer. “Consider me… thoroughly entertained.”

“Careful,” Christian said, already recovering, wickedness returning to the corners of his mouth. He rolled, taking her with him, settling her astride as city light drew a halo at her edges. “I’m nowhere near finished.”

Sage’s smile sharpened. “Good,” she said, settling into a lazy grind that promised another hour and then some. “Let’s see how ambitious you are.” The night stretched long and generous beyond them, a road painted in shades of green, and neither of them had any interest in stopping.