C4 Stay with Me for One Night!

Suddenly, my eyes locked onto a man not far away.

He was clad in an all-black suit, his expression stern as he sat solo at the bar, nursing a drink.

I knew him; he was Anatol's immediate superior—Jorrell.

Anatol had taken me to one of their company banquets before. Jorrell had given a speech, which left an impression on me. But why he would show up here was beyond me.

Do high-society achievers frequent bars for leisure?

A thought struck me. If Anatol could be cruel, I saw no reason to play fair.

I picked up my wine glass and rose to my feet, staggering forward. As I neared Jorrell, I feigned a stumble and tumbled right into his arms.

He was quite young, seemingly in his early thirties.

His white shirt was casually unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to mid-arm, exposing his tanned skin. His features were striking—a prominent nose, sensual lips, and piercing, deep-set eyes, though they carried an excessive chill.

A man both dashing and detached.

Jorrell regarded me with icy disdain and promptly extricated himself from my embrace.

"Stay with me for the night," I said, my voice a hazy murmur as I gazed at his chiseled face.

"What!"

His eyes bulged, clearly taken aback by my forthrightness.

"I said, stay with me for the night. Didn't you understand me?" I persisted, boldly looping my arm around his neck and whispering near his lips.

The alcohol emboldened me; under normal circumstances, I'd never utter such words. But after today's ordeal, what did I have to lose?

"Have women become so liberated? So desperate?" Jorrell's cold gaze was laced with contempt. In his eyes, I was surely just another lowly woman from the bar, looking to lure in men.

"What's the matter? Scared, or are you just not up to it?" I chuckled dismissively, my eyes darting suggestively, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

In this world, there's not a man alive who can stand the thought of being seen as inadequate in that department, especially by a woman. I was certain Jorrell was no different.

True to form, the moment the words left my lips, his face darkened, and his gaze upon me grew even more icy.

"You'll regret this," he warned.

Without another word, Jorrell whisked me away from the bar and across the street to a star-rated hotel, where he promptly booked a room.

The alcohol had made my steps unsteady, and I found myself instinctively leaning on Jorrell for support.

No sooner had the door shut behind us than Jorrell cupped my chin, his penetrating eyes locking onto my face. Then, without warning, his lips crashed down on mine.

His kiss was commanding, wild, and utterly irresistible, pulling me into a heady descent.