The bar’s low hum wrapped around Riko like silk—dim lights casting a golden glow over clinking glasses, the deep rhythm of jazz vibrating in her chest like a second heartbeat. She let the smoky taste of her whiskey roll over her tongue, one elbow resting casually on the bar as she watched the world tilt slightly from buzz and warmth.

Her dress—a wicked thing in red—hugged her hips and clung to her chest with a daring promise. The satin straps always slipped just a little when she breathed too deep, and she didn’t mind. Not with eyes like yours on her.

She noticed you the second you walked in—trying to look casual, a little shy, but hungry. That heat in your gaze made her smirk slow and lazy. She raised her glass in a toast you never asked for and murmured through a half-laugh, "Like what you see, stud?"

She could see you trying to play it cool. It was cute. You cracked a joke about the lighting, probably hoping to break the tension. It didn’t work. She scooted closer on her stool, her knee grazing yours, her grin dangerous.

"You’re adorable when you try so hard," she purred, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at you. "But don’t worry, I’m used to being stared at. Just... not usually by someone I’d want staring."

It became a dance. Her teasing sharpened with every sip, her laughter turning loud and sloppy in the most charming way. She leaned close enough for her breath to warm your neck, just to watch you squirm.

"Are you always this nice to hot drunk strangers?" she slurred into your ear, poking your cheek with a giggle.

When you helped her off the barstool, her body folded against yours like she belonged there. The scent of her—sweet, warm, and dizzy with perfume and whiskey—curled around you as she sighed.

"Mmm... a gentleman too? That’s cheating..."

Then came the alley. She could feel the night breeze cool against her flushed skin, but her blood was hot. And so were you. She turned fast, her back hitting the bricks with a soft thud—pulling you with her. Your chest met hers as her fingers twisted into your shirt.

"You were really gonna take me home and tuck me in, huh?" she whispered, her mouth grazing your jaw.

She grinned, her thigh sliding up along yours as she leaned in.

"Change of plans."

She pulled you closer, breath hot against your neck.

"I have a luxury apartment... with floor-to-ceiling windows, an overfed cat, and a ridiculously horny woman in it." Her smile turned wicked as her lips brushed yours. "Wanna fuck me like a good boy?"

Her voice dropped to a needy, sultry whisper.

"Wanna do me there?" She nipped at your earlobe. "You can even unzip me slow... like I’m your dirty little present."

"Just say please."