I watched Jake gulping down drink after drink, his every move so unlike the man I knew. The Jake I had come to live with was calm, gentle, often quiet. But tonight—standing up for me, claiming me as his, showing a side I never thought I'd see—it was… different. Strange. Adorable, even. I could've watched him like that all night.
"Waiter, another round for everyone!" Jake suddenly stood, voice loud and unrestrained, his declaration echoing through the club.
He was past his limit.
Zara quickly pulled him back down into his seat, trying to steady him. "You're drunk, Jake. Sit down," she scolded, her voice firm but worried.
"I think we should leave." I finally spoke, knowing this could go south if I didn't take control.
I rose from my chair, slipped one arm firmly around his waist, and lifted him to his feet. He leaned heavily into me, unsteady but still clinging to that drunken spark. With one hand carrying his belongings and the other guiding him, I gave a polite nod of farewell to Raven and Zara before leading him out.
On the way to the car, reality hit me—handling a drunk Jake was no easy task. He was unpredictable, stubborn, and heavy in my arms. Still, I managed. Somehow, I got the car door open, and with careful movements, I eased him onto the back seat, making sure he could rest without hurting himself.
Even in this state, he had me captivated.
The headlights flickered across me as I pulled into my usual parking spot. The entire ride, Jake had stayed quiet—eyes shut, head tilted against the seat—allowing me to drive without distraction. For that, I was grateful.
But the real challenge was only just beginning.
I stepped out, bracing myself for the battle ahead. With a deep breath, I opened the back door and slipped my arms under him. He was so drunk he didn't even resist, his body sinking into me like I was the only thing keeping him upright. Carrying him, I made my way carefully through the stillness of the night toward the elevator.
The doors slid open with a soft chime. I shifted his weight in my arms, balancing him while I pressed the button to our floor. The quiet hum of the elevator filled the space—until I noticed his eyelids fluttering open.
"I… I want to puke," he slurred, his voice weak but urgent.
Panic shot through me. "Jake, no. You need to hold it in. Just a little longer," I urged, my eyes darting nervously between his pale face and the glowing floor numbers ticking upward. "We're almost there. Just—"
But before I could finish, it happened.
Warm, sour liquid spilled against me, soaking straight through my suit. I froze, wide-eyed, as the smell hit me and Jake's grip tightened on my shirt, his throat convulsing with what he couldn't hold back.
The elevator doors kept climbing. My suit was ruined. My arms trembled. But more than anything, my heart ached seeing him like this—helpless, vulnerable, and completely mine to take care of.
I laid him carefully onto the couch after finally reaching our floor and unlocking the door. First his head, then his feet, as gently as I could—like he might shatter if I wasn't careful. I slipped his shoes off one by one and loosened his jacket, giving him room to breathe.
Only then did I turn to myself. My own clothes clung damp against my skin, stained with the mess from earlier. With a sigh, I stripped off my jacket and unbuttoned my shirt, desperate to wash away the stench.
My mind continued to linger around Jake's actions with every drop of water, his words still echoing like a reminder I couldn't silence. Even as I changed into fresh clothes, the memory of his voice clung to me.
Carrying a bucket of water and a towel, I returned to the main hall and settled beside him. Gently, I began to wipe him clean, brushing away the traces of alcohol from his skin. His face looked softer now, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. When I unbuttoned his shirt to clean him properly, the sight of his bare chest, his delicate skin beneath my touch, sent my thoughts spiraling.
Once I was done, I set the towel aside and went to fetch a blanket so he could rest undisturbed. But the moment I turned, I froze in place.
Jake's eyes were barely open, hazy from the alcohol, but his grip was firm—too firm for someone half-asleep. With a sudden pull, I lost balance and fell against him, my chest pressing into his.
"Jake…" I whispered, my voice tight, caught between panic and longing.
His breath, warm and uneven, fanned across my cheek. His hand slid to my waist, holding me so close I could feel the wild rhythm of his heartbeat against mine. I tried to push myself up, but he was stronger than his drunken state should have allowed.
"Jake, you need to let me go," I urged, my tone more like a plea than a command.
But then he spoke, his words slurred yet sharp enough to cut straight through me.
"Why… why didn't you push her hand off your leg?"
My heart lurched. The jealousy. The anger. The vulnerability in his voice—it was all there, raw and unguarded.
Before I could answer, his other hand slid behind my head, holding me still. He pulled me closer, so close that the only space left between us was a breath—just one small movement, and our lips would meet.
"Jake…" My voice trembled. "You need to let me go before I lose my control."
"What if I don't?" Jake's voice was steady now, his eyes wide open, locking onto mine with a sharpness that cut through the haze of his drunkenness.
"I won't guarantee your safety tonight." My words were low, rough, as I searched his gaze for hesitation. But instead of fear, all I found was fire. My eyes trailed downward, landing on his lips—too close, too tempting.
"Leo," he whispered, his tone heavy with something far more serious than before. "You know what? I think I like you."
My chest tightened. The confession landed like a spark in dry grass, unstoppable once it caught flame.
"Jake, you need to let me go before—"
I never got to finish. His lips brushed mine, light but certain, stealing the air from my lungs. My eyes flew open while his remained shut, as if he was savoring every second of the moment.
And then I broke.
My hand slid beneath his head, pulling him deeper into me. Our mouths collided again, fiercer this time, tongues tangling with reckless urgency. His lips—soft, warm, intoxicating—ignited a sensation in me I couldn't hope to restrain. Every touch burned, every kiss demanded more.
Breathless, I pulled back just enough to hover above him, our foreheads nearly touching. His pupils were blown wide, his chest rising and falling fast against mine.
"I'm not backing up now," I murmured, eyes locked to his, searching—pleading—for his consent to go further.
With a blink, my hand slid across his chest, parting his shirt and exposing the warmth of his skin. I lowered my lips to his neck, tasting the shiver that ran through him. Jake arched beneath me, his body silently urging me for more.
My mouth teased one of his nipples while my hand caressed the other, and the sound that escaped him was enough to make my own restraint falter. His moans filled the room, raw and unrestrained, echoing between us.
I returned to his lips, capturing them in a kiss that left no space for hesitation. Clothing soon became nothing more than a barrier, discarded in hurried movements until nothing stood between us. Jake lay back, vulnerable yet unafraid, his eyes burning with a desire that mirrored my own.
As I deepened the kiss, my hand traced lower, exploring, coaxing him open to me. His breaths grew ragged, his voice trembling with need. When I finally pulled back just enough to search his face, I whispered, "Are you sure about this?"
Jake's eyes locked onto mine, steady and pleading. "Please… go ahead."
A moan slipped from my lips as I pushed into him, the tight heat of his body wrapping around me, pulling me deeper. Jake arched against me, his face twisted with pleasure, his voice breaking into soft gasps that only urged me on.
I began to move, slow at first, savoring the way he clung to me, before finding a rhythm that drew us both closer to the edge. His moans grew louder, mingling with my own as our bodies moved in sync.
One of my hands slid down, wrapping around him, stroking in time with my thrusts. The sound of his breath, the trembling of his body beneath mine—it all consumed me. Each movement drove us higher, deeper into a place where nothing existed except the fire between us.