Page 8 of Ava After Midnight

Those movements are ghosts of a past I swore I wanted to forget, but with her, they rise like embers catching fire—unstoppable, burning, demanding me to show Ava how it feels to get lost in me.

I take control, leading her through steps that come as naturally as breathing. The rhythm isn’t just between us—itisus, a conversation spoken in movement.

She doesn’t just follow; she meets me, challenges me, reads my intent before I make the next move. Each turn, each grind of her hips against mine, sends all the blood rushing to my cock, making my balls tighten as my heartbeat pounds in my ear.

We’re not just dancing—we’re testing, teasing, pushing to see how far the other will let this go.

“Ava!”

A voice cuts through our bubble. It’s the blonde girl—Zoe.

She stands at the VIP entrance, looking equal parts concerned and thrilled. “We’re hitting Fever next. You coming?”

I expect Ava to pull away, to remember her obligations. Instead, her hand drags down my arm and her fingers lace through mine. With conviction, she replies, “Only if Domingo comes too.”

Zoe’s gaze sweeps over me, assessing. I feel her light eyes drag down my body and feel oddly naked under her gaze. Whatever she sees must pass inspection, because she grins. “Hell yes. The more the merrier!” She cheers, her smile mischievous. “And honey, you look better with him than that stick-up-his-ass fiancé.”

“Zoe!” Ava chides, a hand moving to her chest in shock. The effect doesn’t last, because she’s laughing—really laughing. I have a feeling it’s for the first time tonight—perhaps the first time in a while.

“Let me grab my jacket,” I say, already knowing I’m making a huge mistake.

I slip through the back entrance and into the staff room, shaking my head as I pass Mateo, who’s stacking fresh bottlesonto the shelf. He pauses, raising a brow at me. “Going somewhere?”

“Don’t start,” I mutter, yanking my jacket from the hook.

He smirks, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. “I don’t have to. That look on your face says enough.”

I roll my eyes but can’t fight the smirk pulling at my lips.

Mateo chuckles, tossing a bar rag over his shoulder. “Try not to lose your head,hermano.”

I scoff, shoving my arms into my jacket. “You act like this is new.”

He lifts a brow, smirking. “Nah, but it’s different. You don’t do this for just anyone.”

I don’t answer, and Mateo’s grin only grows. “Thought so.”

I clap him on the shoulder on my way out, exhaling as I step back into the pulsing beat of the club. Too late for that.

Fever’s only a few blocks away—it’s the kind of underground club that doesn’t exist to the daylight crowd. The kind of place that makes Ava’s engagement ring look like a costume piece, even with its cut and weight.

Her friends surround us as we walk, a chaotic parade of glitter and gossip. Jade, the bitter one, keeps shooting me knowing looks. Just before we reach the entrance, she flicks her gaze between Ava’s hand in mine and the ring on her finger, then exhales sharply—like she already knows where this is going. Mia, the quiet one, watches with barely concealed disapproval.

But Ava’s hand stays in mine, warm and sure, like she’s already chosen—like she’s anchoring herself to this moment, to me. I’m unsure if she’s oblivious to her friends’ judgements or if she simply doesn’t care. Either way, I let her lead me down the street and to the next club.

“You sure about this,princesa?” I murmur as we reach Fever’s entrance, my grip tightening just enough to let her know I mean it. “You keep holding my hand like that, and I’mgonna take it as a promise.” The bass bleeds through the walls, promising darkness and bad decisions.

She tightens her grip on my hand, just slightly, like she’s holding onto her own decision. Her breath catches, her gaze locked onto mine, daring me to challenge her.

For a split second, the neon catches on her ring, flashing like a contradiction. She doesn’t even hesitate. She yanks me down into a kiss that tastes like destiny.

Ava’s grinning when she pulls back, lips still brushing mine. “The night’s still young.”

Chapter Three

AVA

Domingo’s hands steady me as we step into Fever, and I’m already addicted to his touch. Every nerve ending in my body sparks to life, singing, screaming for more. The club swallows us in shadow and heat, the bass so powerful it matches the throb between my thighs.

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