C U At 9 Hot Scene -

He’s leaning against the frame, sleeves rolled to his elbows, jaw tight. She’s inside, backlit by the neon haze, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and the kind of look that ruins self-control.

“You’re not dressed.” He steps in. The door clicks shut behind him. Lock turns. The world outside disappears. C U At 9 Hot Scene

He steps closer. Close enough to feel her warmth. “You texted ‘C U at 9.’ That’s an invitation, not a suggestion.” He’s leaning against the frame, sleeves rolled to

It’s 9:01.

She reaches out, fingers tracing his belt loop, pulling him the last inch. “Maybe I wanted to see if you’d show.” The door clicks shut behind him

Anticipation. Electric silence. The click of a lock.

The pause stretches — thick, breathless. Then his hand cups the back of her neck. Her lips part. No more words. Just the soft collision of want and patience finally breaking.