PRIMAL DESIRES

The elevator ride was a blur of heat and breathless laughter, Avie's back pressed against the cool metal wall as Quentin's lips found hers again and again. His hands traced the curve of her waist, pulling her closer as their breaths mingled.

The heat between them grew with each kiss, their bodies moving in sync as if caught in a rhythm all their own. Avie's fingers tangled in Quentin's hair, and he responded by pressing her even harder against the wall, a low growl escaping his throat.

When the doors opened with a soft chime, he took her hand and led her through the hushed hallway. The key card blinked green, and the door to the hotel suite opened.

They crossed the threshold intertwined, a tangle of desire and curiosity. The door clicked shut, and Quentin wasted no time capturing her lips again.

Clothes were discarded piece by piece, each touch igniting a deeper need. The night unfolded in shadows and whispers, the world outside forgotten as their bodies came together in a primal, unspoken language.

The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm streaks across the crumpled sheets. Avie stirred first, blinking against the light before turning her head to find Quentin beside her.

His breathing was even, his face relaxed in sleep, a stark contrast to the guarded man she'd sparred with the night before. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed, gathered her clothes, and dressed with practiced ease. On the sleek nightstand, she found the hotel notepad and pen.

Thanks for indulging my curiosity. Let's see how curious you get.

-Avie

She set the pen down softly and left without a backward glance.

The city was just waking up as she stepped into her apartment. The scent of coffee greeted her, along with the faint rustle of a newspaper being folded.

"Late night?" came the voice from the kitchen.

Avie walked in to find her father sitting at the marble island, his eyes sharp above the rim of his coffee mug.

"Something like that," she said lightly, heading to the fridge.

"Where were you?"

She paused with the milk in hand, her lips curving faintly as she turned. "With Quentin."

His brow furrowed. "Quentin who?"

"Quentin Rome," she answered, watching his expression shift from curiosity to something more calculating.

"Hale," he repeated. "The attorney?"

Avie just smiled, poured her coffee, and left the kitchen without another word.

Back at the hotel, Quentin woke to the warmth of sunlight and the faint scent of Avie's perfume lingering on the sheets. He turned, expecting to find her beside him, but instead, his eyes landed on the note.

He read it twice, a slow, knowing smile forming.

He set the note down and swung his legs out of bed. After a quick shower, he changed into workout gear and headed to the suite's private gym.

As he adjusted the weights, his mind returned to Avie's words.

Let's see how curious you get, he chuckled softly. "Game on," he muttered before starting his first set, the memory of her smile pushing him to lift just a little harder, a little longer.

Far away, in a penthouse office across the city, Avie's father reached for his phone. "Get me everything you can find on Quentin Hale," he ordered.

Something eclipsing had just begun.