Lips on Fire

Cody POV

I stumble away from the balcony, my heart still pounding from Ryan’s hand on my neck. The party noise hits me hard again. People laugh loud. Glasses clink. Music shakes the floor under my sneakers. I need to breathe. My legs move fast, carrying me through the crowd. I dodge a lady in a red dress and a guy spilling his drink. The air feels thick, too warm. I spot a hallway off to the side. It’s narrow, dim, with soft yellow light from a lamp on the wall. Perfect. I duck in and lean against the cool plaster, sucking in air. My chest heaves. My lips still tingle from how close he got.

Footsteps follow me. Heavy. Sure. I look up, and there’s Ryan. He fills the hallway with his tall frame, dark hair messy, eyes glinting like he’s up to something. His jacket hangs open, showing a tight shirt underneath. He walks right up to me, all swagger and heat. Before I can move, he plants a hand on the wall above my head. His body’s close now. Too close. My breath catches.

“Running from me?” he says. His voice is low, playful. His knee nudges between my thighs, pressing just enough to make me squirm.

My heart races so fast I think it’ll burst. I smirk, trying to play it cool. “Maybe you’re chasing.”

He laughs soft. It’s a rumble I feel in my bones. His eyes lock on mine, dark and teasing. Then he leans in. No warning. His lips crash into mine. They’re soft at first, warm, brushing light. My stomach flips. I freeze for a second, shocked. Then he presses harder, hungry. I taste whiskey on him, sharp and hot, mixed with something sweet I can’t name. I gasp into his mouth. My hands grab his jacket, fisting the fabric tight. I pull him closer. I need him closer.

His tongue slips in, slow and dirty, teasing mine. It’s like fire spreading through me. My head spins. I kiss him back, matching him, our tongues sliding together. Teeth clash a little. It’s messy, wild. My whole body lights up. His fingers find the hem of my shirt and slip under. They’re warm, rough, tracing the dip of my spine. I shiver hard. My back arches off the wall. I feel myself get hard, pressing against his thigh. He shifts his knee, rubbing just right. A small sound slips out of me, half moan, half gasp. He swallows it with his mouth.

I’m lost in him. His lips move fast, then slow, sucking my bottom lip gentle before diving back in. My hands slide up, gripping his shoulders. His muscles flex under my fingers. Solid. Real. My nails dig in a little. He makes a low noise, like a growl, and it sends heat straight down me. I’m shaking now, but I don’t care. I want more. I want everything.

Loud voices echo from the party. They’re close. Too close. Footsteps thud near the hallway entrance. Ryan pulls back fast. Our lips part with a wet sound. I pant hard, chest heaving. He’s breathing heavy too. Our foreheads press together. His skin’s hot against mine. Sweat beads on his brow. My face burns. I can still taste him, whiskey and need.

“One-time thing,” I say, voice shaky. It’s a lie. I know it the second it leaves my mouth.

He grins, big and cocky. “Sure it is.” His eyes sparkle, like he sees right through me. He steps back a little, digging in his pocket. He pulls out a pen. Grabs my wrist. His touch is firm, warm. He scribbles something fast. His number. The ink feels cold on my flushed skin. I stare at it, black and messy, while my pulse hammers. “Call me,” he says, voice low. “If you want more.”

I nod, too dizzy to talk. My lips feel swollen. My whole body buzzes. He lets go of my wrist and steps back more. His grin stays, teasing me. I want to grab him again. Kiss him again. But the voices get louder. A group stumbles past the hallway, laughing and shouting. They don’t see us, but it’s enough. I push off the wall, legs wobbly. “I gotta go,” I mumble.

“Yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t move. Just watches me. I feel his eyes on my back as I turn and stumble out. The party swallows me up again. Bright lights. Loud music. People everywhere. I weave through them, head spinning. My wrist burns where he wrote his number. I clench my hand to keep it safe. I hit the front door and step into the night. Cool air rushes over me. It doesn’t calm me down. I’m already craving him. Bad.

I walk fast down the street, sneakers slapping the pavement. My breath puffs out in little clouds. The city hums around me—cars honking, lights flashing. I can’t think straight. That kiss. His hands. His taste. It’s all stuck in my head, playing over and over. I lick my lips and still feel him there. My phone’s in my pocket. Heavy. I could text him now. Say something dumb. But my hands shake too much. I keep walking, trying to shake it off. It doesn’t work.

I stop at a corner, leaning against a streetlamp. My chest feels tight. I pull up my sleeve and look at his number again. Smudged a little, but I can read it. My thumb brushes over it. I smile, small and goofy. He’s famous. Ryan Maddox. And he kissed me. Me. Some broke dancer with nothing. My heart does a flip. I start walking again, slower now. The night’s quiet out here. Just me and my thoughts. All about him.

I think about calling him. What would I say? Hey, it’s Cody. I can’t stop thinking about your lips. Lame. But true. I shove my hands in my pockets and kick a pebble. It skitters across the road. My mind won’t quit. His knee between my legs. His fingers on my back. That growl he made. I’m hard again just thinking about it. I groan soft and shake my head. This is crazy. He’s a star. I’m nobody. But he looked at me like I was something.

I turn down my street, apartment building in sight. It’s old, rundown. Home. I fish my keys out, jingling loud in the quiet. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I stop dead. My heart jumps to my throat. I pull it out fast, hands fumbling. The screen lights up. A new text. From a number I don’t know. I open it quick.

“Hey, dancer. You make it home okay?”

It’s him. Ryan. My knees go weak. I stare at the words, mouth dry. He’s thinking about me. Right now. I start to type back, fingers clumsy. “Yeah, just got here.” I pause. Add more. “Still thinking about you.” I hit send before I can chicken out. My pulse races. I wait, holding my breath. The screen stays dark. One minute. Two. Nothing. Maybe he’s busy. Maybe it was dumb to say that.

Then my phone buzzes again. I almost drop it. Another text. “Good. Me too.” My grin splits my face. I’m floating. I start to reply, something flirty, when it buzzes once more. I check it fast. This time it’s a call. His name flashes big. Ryan Maddox. My thumb hovers over answer. I want to hear his voice. That low, smooth sound. But before I can press it, another buzz cuts in. A second call. I glance down. It’s not mine. Ryan’s phone, tucked in his jacket pocket against me, lights up on the ground. Dropped when we kissed. The screen says “Manager.” My stomach drops hard. He’s in trouble. Big trouble.