The bass of the club still pulsed in Shane's veins as she pushed open the back door, stepping into the night. The heavy door slammed behind her, muffling the music and trapping heat in her chest. The cool night air brushed her skin, but it did nothing to quiet the storm May had stirred inside her.
And there she was.
May leaned against the brick wall of the alley, one heel kicked up, arms folded, a soft breeze teasing her golden hair. Her lips curled into a smirk, like she'd been expecting Shane all along.
"Took you long enough," May said, voice low and knowing.
Shane didn't answer. Words were useless now. She crossed the space between them in three strides and pinned May against the wall with her body, not forceful—deliberate. Her eyes held May's for a second longer, asking permission in her silence.
May's smile deepened. "Finally."
Shane kissed her like she meant it this time—no teasing, no games. Their mouths crashed together in a hot, messy tangle of lips and breath. May responded instantly, arching into Shane, her fingers tugging at the hem of her shirt, her nails grazing skin.
Shane growled into her mouth, hands sliding down to grip her thighs. She lifted her effortlessly, and May wrapped her legs around Shane's waist like she belonged there. Their bodies met in a rhythm neither had to think about—grinding, desperate, right.
"God, you're so damn cocky," May whispered, her breath hot against Shane's ear.
"You like it," Shane murmured, lips brushing May's neck before she sucked gently at the sensitive spot just beneath her jaw. May gasped, fingers twisting in Shane's hair as she pulled her closer.
"Maybe," May breathed, "but I'm not easy."
Shane smirked. "Neither am I."
The kiss deepened, more like a claim than a connection. Shane let her hands roam, fingers slipping beneath the curve of May's dress, feeling the bare skin of her thighs. The smoothness of it, the heat radiating off her—it was driving Shane mad.
But it wasn't just the physical that made her dizzy. It was her. May. The way she moved, the way she challenged her. Shane had met beautiful women before—plenty—but none who made her lose control like this. None who made her want to.
"You're trouble," Shane muttered, pulling back just long enough to catch her breath.
May's eyes gleamed in the dark. "And you love it."
Shane paused, her heart stuttering. She didn't do love. Didn't trust it. Didn't believe in it. But the look in May's eyes—intense, playful, confident—was starting to chip away at something she didn't know she'd built so thick around herself.
She kissed her again instead of answering, slow this time. Like she didn't want to forget how May tasted. Like she was already addicted.
May pulled back after a moment, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed. "You kiss like you're starving."
"Maybe I am," Shane said, her voice husky. "But I haven't figured out if it's for you... or what you do to me."
May's legs slowly slid down as Shane set her back on the ground, though they stayed close—too close. "What I do to you?" May echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds like you're catching feelings, Kingston."
Shane clenched her jaw. "Don't push it."
May leaned in, lips grazing Shane's one last time. "I don't have to. You'll come to me."
And just like that, she stepped back, smoothing her dress, that wicked smirk playing on her lips again.
Shane watched her walk away, the sway of her hips hypnotic, her scent lingering in the air like a sin she wanted to commit again and again.
She didn't call after her. Didn't follow.
But her body ached, and her mind wouldn't quiet.
This wasn't love.
It couldn't be.
And yet… for the first time, Shane didn't feel like she was the one in control.
And she hated how much she loved that.