The breeze outside was warm, soft against Sasha's skin as she stepped out of the building. The evening sky was dimming, painted with strokes of orange and gray. She clutched her small purse tightly, her eyes scanning the street for a cab.
She wasn't wearing her office clothes anymore.
The dress she wore now was tight, black, and short - hugging every curve, her long legs exposed beneath it. Her hair fell in waves down her back. A dab of red lipstick marked her mouth.
She wasn't dressed for work.
She was dressed for someone.
And Xavier Blackwood saw her the moment she stepped out.
He'd been waiting in his car - sleek, black, tinted. Parked across the street.
He hadn't planned this.
But when he'd seen her earlier, rushing past the reception in a different outfit, something twisted inside him. He told his driver to wait. And then wait longer.
Now, there she was.
Looking like a walking sin.
He opened the car door and stepped out.
The door shut with a quiet click.
Sasha didn't notice him at first.
Until she heard the sound of footsteps behind her.
Slow. Controlled. Heavy.
She turned-and froze.
Her breath caught.
Xavier stood before her in his black tailored suit, every inch of him sharp and unreadable. His eyes dropped to her dress, lingering. His jaw clenched.
"S-Sir?"
She said it softly, a whisper more than a word.
His voice was low. Cold.
"What are you wearing?"
Her lips parted. "I... I just changed. I was-"
"That's not what you wore to work."
She nodded slightly, fingers tightening on her purse.
"I was going out," she murmured.
"Dressed like that?"
Her breath quickened. "It's just a dress... I didn't think-"
"You didn't think," he cut in sharply. "Obviously."
She looked down at the ground.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his tone harder now.
She hesitated. "I... I have plans."
"With who?"
Silence.
His eyes narrowed.
"Get in the car," he said.
Her head snapped up. "I-sir, I don't think I should-"
He took a step forward.
"I wasn't asking, Sasha."
Her voice shrank. "I... I'm waiting for someone."
His jaw twitched. His eyes burned through her.
"You walk out here," he said slowly, "looking like that, and you think it's safe to wait for someone on a public sidewalk?"
She looked away, ashamed.
Before either of them could speak again, a car pulled up beside them.
A silver sports car.
The door opened.
Martin stepped out.
His smile faded the moment he saw Xavier.
And Sasha.
Together.
"Sasha?" he said, surprised. "Everything okay?"
She nodded quickly. "Y-Yes."
Xavier didn't look at him. His eyes stayed on Sasha.
"You were meeting him?"
She lowered her gaze, saying nothing.
Martin stepped forward, confused. "Is he... bothering you?"
Xavier finally turned his head.
The look he gave Martin was cold. Dangerous.
"This doesn't concern you."
Martin stiffened. "She doesn't seem fine to me."
"She's not your business."
"Maybe not," Martin said, voice tightening. "But this doesn't look right."
Xavier's voice turned ice.
"Get in the car, Sasha."
She took a step forward, almost without thinking.
But Martin reached for her wrist.
"You don't have to go with him," he told her.
That was it.
Xavier didn't wait.
His fist shot out and slammed into Martin's jaw.
Martin stumbled back, hand flying to his mouth.
Two of Xavier's bodyguards appeared from nearby, ready, quiet, deadly.
"No!" Sasha gasped, panic rising in her throat. "Stop! Please!"
Xavier turned to her, voice clipped.
"We're leaving."
She shook her head, tears brimming. "I can't... I don't want-"
He moved quickly.
Before she could escape, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off her feet. She gasped as he carried her, silent and fuming, toward his car.
"Sir-please-!"
The back door opened.
He placed her down in the seat, not roughly, but firmly.
She didn't fight. Not really.
She just sat, stunned, trying to breathe.
Xavier leaned down, his voice quiet but hard enough to leave marks.
"I'm taking you home."
Her voice trembled. "M-My home?"
"No," he said.
His eyes met hers. Dark. Burning.
"Mine."
Then he shut the door.
The world went silent.
And the car pulled away.
★★★★★★
The engine purred quietly.
But inside the car - there was nothing quiet.
Not between them.
Sasha sat stiffly, her legs crossed, her breathing uneven.
Xavier hadn't said a word since he dragged her into the car. Since he'd thrown a punch that shocked even her.
Her skin was still hot. Her heart still pounding.
She turned her head slowly toward him.
"You don't get to do that," she said, her voice sharp, cracking under the heat.
He didn't look at her.
She went on anyway.
"You don't get to punch someone and throw me into your car like you own me. You don't get to decide who I go out with. You said it was business. That's what you wanted. Business."
His jaw flexed.
"That was your rule, not mine," she added, her voice lower now, breath shaking. "So why are you acting like this?"
He didn't answer.
Didn't even blink.
She exhaled roughly and turned away from him, scoffing under her breath.
"I'm not yours, Xavier."
Silence.
She could feel it - the weight of him turning his head. The fire crawling up her spine just from the heat of his stare.
And then -
He moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
His hand shot to the back of her neck, pulling her toward him with a force that stole her breath - and then his mouth crashed onto hers, hard.
It wasn't a kiss.
It was a claim.
A punishment.
A confession.
Sasha gasped against his mouth, but it was swallowed whole. His lips devoured hers like they were the only thing that could shut her up - and she didn't fight him.
She kissed him back.
Harder.
Wilder.
She gripped the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer, knees turning toward him as her legs opened without thinking, dress sliding higher and higher. Heat spread through her like wildfire. His hands were everywhere - her waist, her thighs, dragging her over the seat and onto his lap like he didn't care where they were.
Her back hit the leather. His body pressed down on hers.
His fingers skimmed her inner thigh, sending fire straight through her core.
Sasha moaned into his mouth - unfiltered, desperate.
His hand found the back of her thigh and pulled her closer.
The space between them disappeared.
He kissed her deeper, like he'd been starved. Like he'd held this in for too long. His tongue slid against hers with a hunger that made her knees weak and her heart furious in her chest.
Still kissing her, he tugged at the hem of her dress, pushing it upward. She let him.
No words.
Just fever.
Just breath and heat and two people finally breaking.
The windows were fogging.
The leather creaked under them.
From the driver's seat, a quiet glance in the rearview mirror - but the man didn't say a word.
Couldn't.
Wouldn't dare.
Sasha arched against him, her hands in his hair now, her body trembling beneath him, caught between rage and need and something terrifyingly close to surrender.
And then-
The car slowed.
The driver's
voice cut through the chaos like a knife.
"We've arrived, sir."
Xavier didn't move right away.
He kept his forehead pressed against hers, breathing hard, lips parted.
His voice was rough, a whisper against her jaw.
" You're coming with me"
Then he pulled back.
And opened the door.