Chapter 1: wet heat
Rain was falling heavily like it wanted to drown the city. Lena, a 28 year old lady, ran into a bookstore angrily. Her white shirt stuck to her skin, wet and see-through, showing her black lace bra. She was done with her boring job—endless emails, a creepy boss. Done with dates that went nowhere, guys who talked big but fizzled out. Tonight, she just wanted a book, something hot and dirty to match the storm.
She pushed the door open. A bell jingled. The shop smelled of old paper and coffee. A man stood behind the counter, and her breath caught. He was tall, shoulders wide, black hair messy like he had just rolled out of bed. Tattoos curled up his arms—dragons twisting in flames. His brown eyes hit hers, sharp and hungry. "Bad night?" he said, voice low. Lena's heart jumped. Her body warmed, a tingle starting low. "You got a dry spot?" she asked, bolder than she felt.
He smiled, slow and dangerous. Dimples flashed. "Name's Jax. Upstairs,I've got a shirt, coffee, maybe something stronger." His eyes dropped to her wet shirt, lingering on her curves.
She should've said no or even walked out. But his look, his smell like a man and the rain—pulled her in. "Show me," she said, voice thick.
Jax led her up narrow stairs. His apartment was warm, with brick walls, shelves stuffed with books, and a huge bed in the corner. He tossed her a towel and a soft, faded shirt with a band logo. It smelled like him—wood and musk. "Change," he said, turning to a small kitchen. But she caught his eyes in the window's reflection, watching her.
Lena peeled off her shirt. Cold air hit her skin. Her nipples hardened, poking through her bra. She slipped on his shirt, too big, hitting her thighs. It felt like a hug, his scent wrapping around her. She walked out, barefoot, hair damp and curling.
Jax froze, coffee mug in hand. His eyes darkened, jaw tight. "Damn," he said, stepping close. "You are trouble" he said, hand touching her face, thumb brushing her lip, slow and hot.
Lena's pulse raced. Her body burned. "Maybe," she said. "What you gonna do?"
He didn't talk. His mouth crashed into hers, hard and needy. His tongue pushed in, tasting like rain and fire. She moaned, hands grabbing his shirt, pulling him tight. His chest was hard, like stone. His hips pressed close, and she felt him—big, hard, trapped in his jeans.
They stumbled. Her butt hit the kitchen counter. His hands moved fast, sliding under the shirt, gripping her hips. His fingers dug in, rough but good. He yanked the shirt up, baring her stomach, her bra. His mouth found her neck, sucking, teeth grazing. She gasped, head back, legs shaking.
"Jax," she whispered, voice shaky. Her hands pulled his hair, soft and thick.
He growled, low. His lips moved down, kissing her collarbone, then lower. He tugged her bra down. Her breast spilled out, nipple hard. His mouth closed over it, hot and wet, sucking hard. His tongue flicked, fast, teasing. Lena cried out, a sharp sound. Her body throbbed, wet between her legs.
He didn't stop. His hand slid down, under the shirt, finding her underwear. "Soaked," he said, voice rough. He pulled the fabric aside. His fingers slipped inside, two at once, moving deep. She gasped, hips bucking. His thumb rubbed her clit, slow circles, then faster. Her body tightened, heat building, fast and wild.
"Jax!" she screamed, shaking hard. Her body exploded, pleasure ripping through her. Her legs clamped around his hand, trembling.
He pulled back, eyes burning. He knelt, tugging her to the counter's edge. Her underwear hit the floor. His hands spread her thighs. "Gotta taste you," he said. His tongue licked her, slow at first, then deeper. He sucked her clit, gentle, then hard. Lena's hands gripped the counter, nails scratching wood. Her body burned, every lick sending sparks.
"Come for me," he said, voice muffled, lips against her.
She did. Her scream filled the room, loud and raw. Her thighs squeezed his head, shaking as waves hit her again, harder this time. She panted, dizzy, body soft like jelly.
Jax stood, wiping his mouth, grinning. His jeans were tight, bulge obvious. He leaned in, kissed her soft. "You're fucking perfect," he said.
Lena's heart pounded. She wanted more—his body, his heat. But the way he looked at her, soft under the hunger, made her chest ache. This wasn't just sex. It was something bigger, scarier.
"Stay," he said, hand on her cheek. "All night."
She nodded, breathless. "Yeah, I'm not going anywhere."
They moved to the bed, clothes falling fast. His shirt hit the floor, showing more tattoos, more muscle. She touched his chest, tracing ink. He groaned, pulling her close. His jeans dropped, and she saw him—hard, thick, ready. She licked her lips, wanting to taste him too.
He pushed her back, gentle but firm. The bed creaked. He climbed over her, eyes locked. "You sure?" he asked, voice soft.
"Fuck yes," she said, pulling him down.
He kissed her, slow this time, like he meant it. His body pressed against hers, skin on skin, hot and heavy. They moved together, finding a rhythm, like they'd done this forever. Every touch, every sound, built the fire higher.
The rain kept falling outside, but inside, it was all heat, all heart. Lena didn't know what tomorrow would bring. But right now, with Jax, she was alive.