INTO THE FIRE
570 Words
The car didn’t head for Reuben’s estate.
Instead, it veered off the main road, tires crunching gravel as it followed a narrow, tree-shrouded path. Caroline sat up straighter, confusion clouding her features.
“Where are we going?” she asked the driver.
He said nothing.
Minutes passed before the road opened up to a secluded villa tucked deep in the woods. Thick stone walls, iron gates, and security cameras screamed danger and secrecy. It wasn’t his usual place — this one felt personal. Hidden.
The car stopped. The driver stepped out and opened the door, still silent. Caroline hesitated but followed. Her heart raced.
Inside the villa was quiet — dim lights, a faint smoky scent in the air, and warmth radiating from a fireplace nearby. No staff. No guards. Just silence.
Then he appeared.
Reuben.
Black slacks. No shirt. Damp hair, skin still dewy with heat. A thin gold chain rested against his chest. Caroline’s breath caught.
“What is this place?” she asked.
He walked closer, his gaze unreadable. “A place I come when I want to disappear.”
Caroline took a step back. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Then leave,” he said flatly, but didn’t open the door.
She didn’t move either.
Reuben raised a hand, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. The touch was soft, almost too gentle for a man like him.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said quietly.
“You already are,” she whispered.
He looked at her like she was the only thing in the room. “Then hurt me back.”
She didn’t think. She didn’t plan.
Their mouths crashed together, fire and fury. His grip found her waist, hers tangled in his hair. There was nothing careful about it — only hunger, the kind that had waited too long.
He tasted of smoke and whiskey, sin and secrets.
One hand slipped under her hoodie, finding skin. He paused when she tensed, eyes searching hers. “Say stop,” he murmured.
She didn’t.
He pulled her hoodie off with one motion. Her tank top clung to her curves, and he stared like he hadn’t seen anything so addictive.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
“I’m not scared,” she replied, breathless.
“I know. That’s the dangerous part.”
Without warning, he lifted her — like she weighed nothing — and carried her down the hall, into a room bathed in flickering firelight. The bed was wide, the sheets dark. A storm waiting to break.
He laid her down gently, his lips finding hers again. This kiss was different. Slower. Focused. Like he needed to learn every inch of her.
“Still not scared?” he asked, hovering above her.
“Not of you,” she said.
Something unspoken passed between them, something heavier than lust.
His mouth trailed heat down her throat, across her collarbone. Her top slipped away, and he followed, skin to skin. Hands roamed, mapping her like she was fragile and dangerous all at once.
Caroline’s mind blurred. All she could think of was the warmth of him, the way he looked at her like she was the only truth in a world full of lies.
The outside world vanished.
All that remained was the sound of her heartbeat, his breath against her skin, and the fire that grew between them — fierce, consuming, real.
- Writer
