No Escaping the Billionaire's Desire

　　Zephyra's POV

　　My heels echoed through the bar as I strode towards the counter, desperately wanting to escape the awkwardness of waiting for my ride outside the restaurant, that night. I pulled out my phone, intending to call a cab home, but a sudden burst of laughter and music distracted me. I glanced through the tinted windows and spotted a lively bar.

　　Fresh from a breakup from my boyfriend, no, ex-boyfriend, Jovan, the last thing I wanted was to slink home alone. Instead, I pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the dimly lit space, greeted by the scent of beer, whiskey, and a touch of leather. The bar beckoned, and I found an empty stool next to a dark-haired man.

　　Ignoring the prickle of tears, I signaled the bartender. I would have ordered a light drink, but tonight called for something stronger.

　　"Whiskey. On the rocks."

　　The bartender raised an eyebrow, before he poured a generous amount into a tumbler, and I downed it in one go, feeling the burn.

　　"Another one, please." His brows shot up, asking if I was sure. "Sure, I'm sure," I replied, laughing at the tipsiness already settling in. Jovan had rang me up about two hours ago, and had invited me to my favorite restaurant, to which I had dolled up for, in a sexy black dress, that would make any man lose it and strappy heels to match, with the thought that Jovan was finally going to propose to me, but what had greeted me was a news that I hadn't seen coming, a break up.

　　"No tab needed."

　　Just as I was about to revel in my reckless choices, a deep voice next to me interrupted. "Not if she's here on her own.

　　Instead of backing off like any self-respecting jerk, he doubled down, turning to the bartender. "Give her water in the next glass." He insisted.

　　Now, he was ruining my plans of downing my sorrows in a drink for the night. What was his business? Turning to glare at him, I retorted. "Excuse me. You don't get a say in what I order."

　　Ignoring me, he warned, "Trust me, another one of those and it'll hit you like a Mac truck."

　　I snapped at the bartender, really upset now, "He's not the one ordering; I am. So, get me another one."

　　He continued, with a smirk, which only provoked me. "I bet some guy broke your heart, and if I can tell, so can everyone else. One more whiskey and every guy here will be trying to pick you up, especially looking like that."

　　I gritted my teeth and counted to ten and he narrowed his eyes as I responded, "Whoa. And aren't you just making my bad mood worse? For the record, no amount of drinking will turn me into a quick, dirty revenge bad bitch type."

　　"Well, maybe you should be," he suggested.

　　I turned to him, intrigued. It was none of his business, anyway. "Why? Do you think it'll make me feel better tomorrow during the walk of shame?"

　　He didn't say anything, so I signalled for another whiskey. Taking a sip from his drink, which I suspected to be tequila, he faced me. "So, what did he do?"

　　"Who?" I asked, genuinely confused.

　　"Your boyfriend."

　　I corrected, "Ex boyfriend. "

　　"Oh, my bad. I apologise." He said, gesturing broadly.

　　"You still haven't told me what he did," he noted, signalling for water this time, when I didn't respond, after a couple of minutes.

　　I reluctantly took a sip. "Don't tell me you're really interested in my sob story."

　　Like, who would be?

　　"Normally I wouldn't be, but I need a distraction right now. And you're it."

　　So, that was it.

　　I faced him, concern in my eyes. "Is everything okay with you?"

　　Surprised, he hesitated, then deflected, "Tell me what this jerk did to make you such a mess."

　　"Are you mocking me?" I asked, ready to pick a fight, if he was.

　　"I wouldn't dare," he insisted.

　　I laughed. "I'm sure you would."

　　He chuckled, and I caught a couple of businessmen watching me. He turned to them, and they looked away before he refocused on me.

　　"Do you really want to know?" I asked, referring to the question he had asked about my ex.

　　He nodded. "Might as well get it off your chest."

　　I took a sip of water. "Okay. Well, I worked with him." He raised a brow. "I know. Not the smartest move. But we got to know each other during my internship. He'd flirt, I'd flirt back. He was handsome. Older."

　　"Is that your type?" he smirked.

　　I paused, a crease forming between my brows, before answering him with a mild shrug. "Maybe."

　　My unexpected response seemed to stir something in him, a surge of heat and arousal that he looked like he was trying to suppress. I figured he was just like me. He wasn't here to pick up anyone; he just wanted a drink in peace, away from prying eyes. Though he looked like he would acknowledge he was an attractive man, he wasn't actively seeking attention.

　　I traced condensation on my glass, recounting my story. "After my internship, Jovan asked me out. One thing led to another, and we kissed."

　　"Just kissed?" he teased. "How very Hallmark of you."

　　I glared, replying, "I know, right? Yup, we just kissed. It was nice. I liked him, but I was focused on finishing college. After I graduated, we started dating when he came back from London."

　　"How long ago was that?" he inquired.

　　"Seven months."

　　"So, your scintillating love affair fizzled out in seven months?"

　　I scowled, enjoying the sparks in his eyes when he got offended. "I never said it was scintillating."

　　He prodded, "So the guy was boring."

　　"I didn't say that either," I laughed, my irritation fleeting.

　　My emotions shifted easily, a rarity in a world where honesty was scarce. I glanced at him. "What went wrong?"

　　He stared at his glass. "He said things weren't working out, since I didn't want to sleep with him."

　　"Sounds pretty standard," I remarked.

　　"I suppose it is. Nothing special about me or my story."

　　"I wouldn't say that."

　　I leaned on the bar. "So, what were you going to do?" I shifted my gaze away, collecting my thoughts. "Nothing, I guess. My job is great, and I love the company. I just don't like how I feel right now. I don't like thinking it was something I did wrong. That I should have tried harder. If I'd just..." I trailed off, taking another sip of water.

　　Leaning back, he studied me. My eyes cleared from the alcohol haze. His gaze lingered on my exposed thighs, and I made a decision. "Do you know what I think? You should have a quick, dirty revenge sex, then."

　　"I should?" My voice turned breathless after his slow perusal, eagerly anticipating his plea for me to forget everything.

　　He nodded, more like he was unable, not reluctant to look away.

　　"And I think I should be the one you do it with."

　　My cheeks heated, and he already seemed aroused, envisioning pressing his lips against my skin. "Wh-Why with you?" I stammered.

　　He tilted his head, catching a hint of my scent – wildflowers mixed with something sensual. "Because I can guarantee I'll make it good for you. Because we both need to get out of our heads tonight. And because I haven't stopped thinking about peeling that dress off you since you sat down."

　　I squirmed on my stool, and without thinking, I reached out to touch the bulge on his trousers, which he wasn't so concerned to hide. "Wow, you work fast, don't you?" I teased.

　　"I can go slow when I need to," he countered, waiting for my response.

　　"Well," I said, eyeing his forearms. This man had captured my attention like few did. After today's ordeal, the temptation to lose myself in his body was irresistible.

　　"For once, I don't want to overthink everything."

　　"So you're saying..."

　　I took a deep breath. "I'm saying, yes, let's have a quick, dirty revenge sex."