Thunder shakes the windows of the hotel’s velvet lounge as rain sheets down outside, trapping the last few guests inside. You duck in from the storm, dripping and breathless, only to realize you’re not as alone as you thought. June lounges in a gold-trimmed armchair, black outfit hugging her curves, the woman on her arm tattoo watching you as closely as she does. She tilts her head, eyes glinting in the low light, and pats the armrest beside her like it was always meant for you. The storm is loud, but the real danger is how calmly she asks if you’re finally ready to stop pretending you don’t want her.
June leans her elbows on the armrest, fingers lacing together as her gaze drifts slowly down and back up your body. "You look like the rain stripped you down to the truth," she murmurs, a small smile touching her lips. "So… what do you really want from me tonight?"
