Be My Woman: A Billionaire's Redemption

The front door slammed behind her with a finality that rang in her ears. Rain hammered down in cold, merciless sheets, soaking her scrubs instantly. A yellow cab slowed. She flung out her hand.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Anywhere at all, just drive to a club."she rasped.

The city blurred past the rain-streaked window. Three years. Three fucking years of loyalty, of late shifts covered so he could rest, of learning his mother’s recipes and swallowing her own dreams.

All of it reduced to Troy’s mocking laugh and Cassidy’s naked smirk. The sob tore out of her before she could stop it. She pressed her forehead to the cold glass and let the tears fall.

The cab stopped outside a pulsing neon sign. She shoved damp bills at the driver and stepped into the downpour.

Inside, the bass slammed into her chest like a second heartbeat. She made straight for the bar, water dripping from her curls onto the sticky floor.

“Six shots of tequila,” she told the bartender. “Line them up.”

He raised an eyebrow but poured. She downed the first two before he finished the rest. The burn felt good. It was something other than the knife in her chest.

By the sixth shot, she was floating in a numb, angry haze. She slammed the empty glass down and pushed into the crowd.

Bodies pressed against her, sweat and perfume and heat. She moved with them, hips swaying, head thrown back. The music swallowed her screams.

Every beat reminded her of Troy’s groan, Cassidy’s laugh. She grabbed a half-empty bottle from a table and drank straight from it, liquid fire sliding down her throat.

“Three years,” she slurred to no one, laughing bitterly. “Three years and I was just the boring girlfriend with the fucking cake.”

She spun, nearly falling, and collided hard with a solid chest.

Strong hands caught her elbows before she could hit the floor. The bottle was gently but firmly taken from her grip.

“Easy there,” A deep voice said, low and smooth over the music. “You’re about to drown yourself in that thing.”

Liora blinked up. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair damp from the rain, sharp jaw shadowed by stubble. Expensive shirt unbuttoned at the collar.

Eyes like midnight watching her with a mix of amusement and something darker.

She swayed into him, gripping his shirt to stay upright. “Didn’t ask for a knight in shining armor.”

“I have no armor,” He replied, steadying her with one hand at her waist. “Just trying to keep you from cracking your skull on my boots. What’s got a pretty thing like you trying to drink the whole bar?”

She laughed, bitter and broken. “Pretty? That’s funny. My boyfriend, nah, ex-boyfriend said I was boring. A boring pathetic girlfriend.” Her voice cracked. “He even fucked my best friend in our bed on his birthday. While I was bringing him cake.”

“Damn. That’s cold.”The stranger’s grip tightened.

“Cold is too soft to define what they said to me." She pressed closer, drunk courage flooding her. Her hands slid up his chest. “They laughed about how I fuck. Said I was too uptight and too predictable.” She rose on her toes, lips brushing his ear. “Maybe they were right. Maybe I need someone to teach me properly.”

His breath hitched. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

“I’m done playing safe.” She nipped his earlobe, bold and sloppy. “I want to forget his hands, I want to forget her voice. Make me forget, stranger. Fuck the memory of him out of me.”

He pulled back just enough to look at her. His thumb traced her bottom lip, smearing what was left of her lipstick. “You’re drunk, princess. Tomorrow you might regret this.”

“I regret three years,” she whispered fiercely. “I regret trusting them. I don’t regret wanting your hands on me right now.” She rolled her hips against him, feeling him harden. “Look at me. I’m soaked, ruined, and still begging. Doesn’t that turn you on?”

His eyes darkened.

“More than you know.” One hand slid down to grip her ass, pulling her flush against him. “You want dirty? You want rough? Say it clearly.”

She shivered, heat pooling low in her belly.

“I want you to bend me over somewhere dark. I want your cock so deep I can’t think about anything else. I want marks, I want to scream your name until mine doesn’t matter.” Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging. “Please. Make me feel something besides this pain and emptiness.”

He groaned softly, forehead resting against hers.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be a big trouble.” His free hand cupped her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek. “What’s your name, princess?”

“Liora,” she breathed. “And I don’t care what yours is.”

He smirked, then he leaned in against her ear. “I’m going to take you somewhere private. Strip you slow. Taste every inch of this pretty body they called boring. By the time I’m done, you’ll be shaking, dripping, and forgetting every other person but me.”

Liora moaned softly, the words hitting harder than the alcohol. She kissed him again, messy, desperate. He kissed back like he’d been starving for it, tongue sliding against hers, hand squeezing her ass possessively.

When they broke apart, she was panting. “I want you now. Before I change my mind and go cry in the bathroom.”

He didn’t hesitate. He scooped her up effortlessly, one arm under her thighs, the other around her back. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her through the crowd like she weighed nothing.

(Word count: 1097)