BODY ON FLAMES

CHAPTER 1... ​The air in the VIP washroom was thick, smelling of expensive lilies and the sharp, metallic tang of lust. Outside, the bass from the birthday playlist thrummed through the marble walls, but inside, the only sound was a rhythmic, wet sliding and the sharp intake of breath. ​Billy slammed her palm hard against the cold subway tile, the vibration rattling up her arm as a wave of pure, unadulterated heat crashed over her. She threw her head back, her dark hair cascading over the edge of the porcelain sink she was perched upon. ​Beneath her, a young man—sturdy, broad-shouldered, and utterly devoted to his task—was buried between her thighs. He was talented, his tongue swirling with calculated precision against her c******s, teasing her with a flick before dragging slowly upward. He was eating her up, his breath hot against her sensitive skin, treating her like the finest meal he’d ever been served. ​Billy’s toes curled against the porcelain. A jagged, breathless moan escaped her lips. "Ahhhh!" she gasped, her fingers tangling roughly in his hair, pulling him closer as she teetered on the edge of a peak that felt like heaven on earth. ​"Billy!" ​The sharp voice of Kulture, her best friend, pierced through the haze from the other side of the locked door. The young man froze, his eyes darting up to Billy’s face, questioning if the session was officially over. ​Billy’s eyes remained shut, her chest heaving. A seductive, predatory smile played on her lips. "Don't listen to her," she whispered, her voice a low rasp of command. "Just continue." ​He didn't need to be told twice. He licked his lips, the moisture glistening in the dim light, and dove back in, his tongue working double-time to finish what he started. ​"Billy! It’s time to cut your cake! Get your ass out here!" Kulture yelled, punctuating the demand with three heavy bangs on the door. ​The spell shattered. Billy squeezed her eyes shut, the frustration bubbling up in her throat. "f**k!" she hissed. The momentum was gone, chased away by the reality of her social obligations. ​With a sigh of pure annoyance, Billy forced a practiced, porcelain smile onto her face. She hopped down from the sink, smoothing out the hem of her designer dress. "Excuse me, and thank you for your time," she said, her tone as casual as if she were thanking a barista for a latte. ​The young man looked up at her, his face flushed and his eyes wide with a puppy-like adoration. It was pathetic, really; he was clearly head over heels after twenty minutes in a bathroom stall. As Billy turned to leave, he reached out, catching her wrist. ​"How about I take you out on a date tomorrow?" he requested, his voice hopeful. ​Billy paused, looking down at his hand and then back to his face. She let out a dry, melodic chuckle. "Date? Honey, I’m far too busy for that." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a cold, razor-sharp edge. "And sorry to hurt your feelings, but you gave me a BJ and that’s it. I don’t even remember your name. Do you honestly think I’m the type to do dinner and a movie?" ​She didn't wait for his heart to finish breaking. She turned on her heel, unlocked the door, and stepped out. Kulture was standing there, arms crossed over her chest, tapping a stiletto against the floor. ​"Please don't give me that look," Billy whined, immediately assuming the role of the pampered birthday girl. "I was trying to have a great time on my own birthday. I deserve this much, don't I?" ​Kulture draped an arm around Billy’s neck, steering her back toward the neon lights and the thumping music of the main hall. "How was it? Are you walking a little funny? I hand-picked him for you, so please tell me it was worth the wait." ​Kulture glanced back over her shoulder, catching sight of the young man stumbling out of the washroom. He looked pale, his shoulders slumped as if the life had been drained out of him. ​"Jeez, Billy," Kulture snickered. "What did you do to him? He looks like he just saw a ghost." ​Billy laughed, a slow, sultry sound. "I had a fine time, and that’s the end of it. Honestly? I didn't even get that turned on. I wasn't wet at all, but it was a fun distraction. He tried to make it ‘meaningful,’ so I had to set him straight. He’d probably want to take me home and try to impress me, but it’s a waste of my time. I’m sure I wouldn't feel a thing." ​Kulture patted her back sympathetically. "Well, let’s get back to the party. We’ll find you a man who actually knows how to light a fire in you." ​"Nah, I'm cool, B," Billy said, checking her reflection in a passing mirror. "I think I've had my fill for the night. That was my third BJ since the sun went down. I can continue the hunt tomorrow. For now, let’s just drink!" ​With a synchronized toss of their hair, the two women cat-walked into the grand ballroom. ​**** ​Kulture Trevor and Billy were two sides of the same golden coin. Best friends from the crib, daughters of wealthy family friends, and both CEOs of their own respective empires. They were the ultimate "birds of a feather," and tonight, they owned the room. ​As they entered, the crowd erupted into a roar of cheers. Kulture, never one to shy away from the spotlight, marched up to the podium and snatched the microphone. ​"Good evening, everyone! I hope you're all sufficiently drunk!" Kulture’s voice boomed. "The birthday girl is back, so let's play a game before we cut the cake. Who’s ready to get lucky?" ​The crowd screamed back a deafening "ME!" ​Billy watched from the side, a brow arched in confusion. "What are you doing?" she mouthed. ​Kulture just winked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I’ve got this, girl!" she yelled into the mic. ​Billy hid her face in her hands, laughing. "I can't believe she just said that," she muttered to herself. ​Kulture set a sleek, velvet-lined box on the podium. "Ladies, I’m sorry, but in this game, the guys come first! Usually, you pick your partners, but tonight, our birthday girl is going to pick one name from this mystery box. Whoever she picks gets the honor of cutting the cake with her, feeding her the first bite, and sharing a very romantic dance. I pulled all your names from the guest list, so... who wants a piece of the queen?" ​The roar from the men in the room was primal. Kulture beamed, soaking in the chaos. Billy felt a flutter of genuine nerves. ​"This is crazy," Billy whispered as Kulture led her toward the podium. "Kulture, are you serious? What if I pick some bottom-tier douchebag?" ​Kulture leaned in close. "Look around, babe. I curated this list myself. There isn't an ugly man in a five-mile radius." ​Billy took a deep breath, reached into the box, and swirled her hand through the slips of paper. ​"Dugudugudugu...!" Kulture mimicked a drumroll into the mic. ​The room went deathly silent as Billy’s fingers closed around a single card. she pulled it out, her eyes scanning the elegant script. A small smile touched her lips. She handed the paper to Kulture. ​"Shawn is the chosen one! Shawn, please come forward!" Kulture announced. ​Heads turned. Men looked at each other, whispering. A minute passed. Then two. No one moved toward the stage. ​"Shawn? Is there a Shawn in the house?" Kulture’s voice wavered slightly. "Don't be shy, darling, the birthday girl doesn't bite... much." ​Suddenly, the DJ switched the track. A slow, heavy, atmospheric bass line began to thrum—a "cool buzz" that changed the entire energy of the room. ​Then, the double doors at the back of the hall swung open. ​Billy felt it before she saw him. Her heart, usually a cold, steady machine, tripped over itself. A man walked through the entrance, moving with a predatory grace that made the rest of the room seem to fade into grayscale. He was tall—impossibly so—with a sturdy build perfectly encased in a charcoal-grey suit that screamed "old money." His face was a masterpiece of sharp angles and well-groomed stubble. ​The room gasped. Girls literally leaned forward to get a better look. ​"I'm sorry," Shawn said, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that vibrated in Billy’s chest. He walked straight to her, ignoring the crowd. "Am I late? I was stepping out for some air. Happy birthday, princess."