Page 51 of One Last Encore

His half-lidded gaze locked onto hers, burning with hunger and heat. Without hesitation, he nodded and set her down. She quickly adjusted her skirt under his searing gaze before he slid his fingers through hers and led her toward the exit.

As they wove through the crowd, Eden spotted her, she grinned and flashed a celebratory thumbs-up.

"Text me if you need to escape," she mouthed over the music.

Ingrid nodded, but she already knew. She wouldn’t need an out. She wanted this. She wanted him.

CHAPTER 15

INGRID. HALLOWEEN, FIVE YEARS AGO

Beck hailed a taxi, the yellow cab pulled up to the curb with a soft hum, its headlights slicing through the evening haze. He opened the door, waiting for her to slide onto the leather seat before following close behind.

As the door clicked shut, he leaned forward, giving the driver his address. Even as the car lurched into motion and merged with the restless flow of traffic, his attention never wavered. His gaze stayed fixed on her, as though she were the only thing that existed in the city around them.

"What?" Ingrid asked, her voice light, but the intensity of him made her pulse stutter.

Beck’s lips curved slightly, but there was no teasing in his expression.

"I just can’t believe you’re real," he murmured, his voice soft, almost awed. "Every time I look at you, I feel like I’m dreaming."

The words wrapped around her, sinking deep into the spaces she hadn’t realized were empty. Warmth unfurled in her chest,spreading outward, making her feel weightless, like she was floating between reality and something far sweeter.

"And I don’t ever want to wake up," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin, sending a soft tremor through her.

"Me either," she admitted, leaning in. Their lips met in a kiss that stole her breath. His fingers threaded through her hair, tilting her head, deepening the kiss. The other hand skimmed her thigh, fingertips brushing the hem of her dress.

The boldness of it shocked her, the way she melted into him without hesitation. She had never felt this before. Intimacy had always been an obligation, something to check off the unspoken list of expectations at the end of an average date. The few times she’d had sex, it had been brief, a means to an end, leaving her indifferent and unimpressed.

This was wildfire, untamed and consuming. She didn’t just want him. She craved him. His touch wasn’t just physical; it was a spark, igniting something deep she hadn’t known was there.

The taxi weaved through the city, its movements erratic, jolting them forward with each abrupt stop.

Beck pulled away from her, his gaze went to the rearview mirror. She followed his line of sight and caught it. The driver’s stare crawled up her bare legs, lingering far too long on the high slit of her dress.

A flicker of unease skated down her spine, but Beck was already moving. He lunged forward, his fist tangling in the seatbelt by the driver’s shoulder and yanked hard.

The belt snapped tight against the man's neck, jerking him back into the seat with a grunt of shock.

"Look again," Beck growled, low and lethal, "and I’ll snap your fucking neck right here."

The driver gasped, hands flying off the wheel in panic. The cab lurched wildly, veering into the wrong lane. Horns blared. Brakes squealed.

Ingrid slammed against Beck's side, heart hammering.

"Beck!" she cried, nails digging into his arm. "Stop, you're going to kill us!"

But Beck didn’t even blink. His glare stayed locked on the driver through the rearview mirror, burning with a furious, bone-deep violence. His fist twisted the belt tighter, making the driver choke and whimper.

"Apologize," Beck ordered, voice a deadly whisper.

"I-I'm sorry!" the driver stammered, nearly sobbing now as he struggled to breathe.

Only then did Beck release the belt with a snap, sending the man lurching forward over the wheel. The cab swerved again before righting itself.

The ride to the curb felt endless, a suffocating silence filling the space between heartbeats. When the taxi finally screeched to a stop, Beck was already moving. He shoved the door open, then turned back and hurled a wad of bills at the driver’s chest hard enough to make him flinch.

"That’s more than enough." His voice was deceptively even. "Next time, keep your fucking eyes where they belong." He climbed out of the cab without another glance. He turned, extending his hand to Ingrid, his expression softening slightly when their eyes met.

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