Cole had never been the type to linger.
He usually took what he wanted—quick and easy, like swiping the last drink at a bar.
But with Naya? Everything felt different.
He could feel her hesitation in every move.
Her eyes burned like fire trapped in glass.
She was tangled in herself—deciding if she was ready to follow his lead or bolt for air.
If it were any other girl, she'd be all over him by now.
He pulled her in, just enough for their bodies to brush.
Heat sharpened between them.
His fingers slid over her waist, barely grazing the skin beneath her dress.
She stiffened. But he didn't pull away.
"You don't know what you want, do you?" Cole asked, voice curling in the space between them.
Naya's eyes flickered. She bit her lip.
The tequila was clearly working—he saw it in the flutter of her pulse at her neck.
But she wasn't giving in.
"I know exactly what I don't want," she shot back.
Her voice wavered just enough for him to catch.
A slow smile tugged at his lips.
This was exactly what he wanted—her on the edge, holding back, knowing there was danger in the air but still drawn to it.
"Careful," he warned, hand sliding lower on her back, pulling her closer.
"If you keep looking at me like that, you'll end up wanting more than you bargained for."
She swallowed.
For a second, he thought she might break.
But then her chin lifted. Her eyes steeled.
She was a fighter.
Good.
His hand moved to her jaw, tilting her face up.
Their eyes locked.
Dark. Searching.
Her breath caught.
He was so close to kissing her—but didn't.
He stopped.
Waiting.
His body was lit—every muscle straining—but he waited.
From the corner of his eye, he caught Dane and Jenny.
They were practically glued together.
Dane kissed her slowly, possessively, one hand tangled in her hair like he was claiming her.
Dane was in his rhythm.
But Cole…
He was stuck.
He couldn't do that to Naya. Not yet.
God, how that killed him.
She followed his gaze. Her eyes landed on the other couple, curiosity flickering.
Her lips parted slightly as she looked back at him.
"Why are you being so careful?" she asked, barely audible over the music.
Cole's smirk was quick. Sharp.
"Am I?" he murmured.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his eyes sinking into hers.
Her breath caught again.
For a split second, heat bloomed in her chest.
He was eating her up with his eyes—still not touching—but God, he didn't mind waiting.
Then he stepped back.
Just a bit.
Giving her space.
Letting her decide.
Then—without warning—he grabbed her hand again, pulling her into the rhythm of the music.
No more time to overthink.
She stumbled.
He caught her.
Guided her.
"Relax," he said, voice low and gruff.
He pulled her flush against him.
Their chests rising together.
His hand slid up—to her face.
Fingers grazing just below her ribs.
She inhaled sharply.
A shiver ran through her like a whisper of lightning.
He leaned in.
His breath brushed her ear.
"I can feel how badly you want this. So let go."
Her skin prickled beneath his breath.
She shifted—barely—but it was enough.
Enough for him to feel her melt into him.
Like water finding its shape.
Then, finally, he leaned in.
His lips brushed hers.
Featherlight.
Teasing.
Daring her to move.
Her breath caught.
Her fingers fisted his shirt like it was the only thing tethering her to gravity.
But she didn't pull away.
And that—that was everything.
He kissed her again.
Deeper this time.
Purposeful.
His hand cradled her jaw.
His thumb grazed her cheek.
His other arm coiled around her waist, drawing her in.
She opened to him with a quiet sigh—
And it hit him like a punch.
Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, anchoring him closer.
Their lips moved in sync.
An unspoken rhythm.
Like they'd always known how to find each other in the dark.
And when he pulled away—
Slow.
Reluctant—
His lips still grazed hers.
Their breath tangled in the heat between them.
Then he murmured, voice rough as gravel—
"Now… you're playing by my rules."