Megan returned to her seat, gently rubbing a luxurious lotion into her hands. Since her financial situation had improved, she had become adept at indulging in self-care. After all, nurturing oneself is the cornerstone of contentment.

By the time she sat back down, Ryan had devoured most of the grilled delicacies. She glanced at his T-shirt, clinging to him in the salty sea breeze, easily recalling recent images of him lounging by the pool in swim trunks, the vivid carousel of memories spinning in her mind.

His waist is truly slim—a lean sign of hidden power.

Feeling a tinge of guilt for her musings, Megan resolved to meditate on her introspective app later.

Ryan, not impressed with her vanishing act, remarked sarcastically, “I thought maybe you'd gotten lost on the way back.”

Assuming she was attempting to dodge the drink, Ryan had already lined up empty beer bottles like sentinels on the table, while hers remained mostly untouched.

“I’m the designated driver,” she feigned a dramatic sigh.

Ryan’s eyes sparkled mischievously beneath the dim light, betraying a hint of a wolfish grin. “Didn’t the old man leave you enough for a chauffeur?”

With a glint of teasing mockery, he nudged her bottle closer. “You always told me to stick to my promises.”

Acknowledging his point, Megan knew she didn't truly plan on evading him. It was only beer, hardly formidable.

With newfound determination, she tipped back her head, taking a generous sip—still just as bitter, with a peculiar aftertaste resembling that of medicine.

Beneath the table, Ryan clenched his fists, tension etched across his knuckles, but he forced a nonchalant smirk. “That's the spirit?”

Unversed in the nuances of spirits, Megan dismissed the odd flavor as a unique brand trait, barely remembering the taste of her previous sip.

Megan shot Ryan a sidelong look, shaking her head lightly. “No rush; I’ll finish it.”

Perhaps it was the influence of the alcohol, but her cheeks flushed a subtle pink, her eyes sparkling with a fresh brilliance.

That look, laced with playful seduction, sent jolts of impure ideas zipping through Ryan’s mind.

He shuddered, grateful she noticed nothing amiss. His hand, formerly a tight fist beneath the table, released its grip, allowing a small, green bottle to roll silently to the floor.

Grilling by the beach with beer in hand, the night was delightfully intoxicating.

Relieved, Ryan refrained from pushing further, content as Megan leisurely nibbled at her food and downed her drink, while he dispatched the remaining bottles alone.

“Time to head out,” Ryan announced upon checking the time, seeing that it was nearing half-past ten.

“Mmm…?”

Her wide, doe-like eyes peered up at him curiously, her head tilting like a bemused kitten’s.

Ryan felt warmth surge under her gaze, his words edged with an assertive tone, “What’s that ‘mmm’ for? Let’s make a move!”

He had barely taken a few steps when the idea struck him, prompting a quick pivot back to Megan, who still sat there, dreamily staring into space.

Cheeks flushed and eyes unfocused, she was clearly inebriated.

Ryan gently tapped her cheek with a finger; she tilted her head, confusion weaving across her expression.

So innocent and utterly trusting.

Ryan's lips curled into a smile. He bent lower, closing the gap, whispering, “Are you drunk?”

Her hot, lively breath brushed his face as Megan blinked slowly, reaching to pinch his cheek.

“…so handsome.”

Her eyes laughed along with her words, her dimples deepening, the glow in her smile captivating.

Her breath, sweetened by alcohol with a hint of sugar, set a tingle down his spine.

Indeed, she was far gone.

Ryan's heart pounded fiercely, chaotic ideas coalescing around one undeniable truth—

Off-limits.

With care, he extended his arms to encompass her shoulders. “Shall I take you home?”

Scented petals seemed to drift into his embrace, a sensory delight overtaking him.

He held his breath, wrapping an arm around her back and beneath her knees.

Wanting more, he cradled her close, feeling the soft warmth through the fabric, syncing with his pulse—a dance of heartbeats.

Ryan felt electricity sizzle down his spine, his face flushing.

Her head nestled near his shoulder, surrounded by a fragrance both fresh and alluring, drawing him in without effort.

Ryan buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply, willing his thunderous heart to steady.

Patience is key.

His ambitions weren’t limited to warm embraces; he envisioned so much more.

The bustling night market offered drivers-for-hire aplenty. Ryan flagged one, carrying Megan to the car.

Disarmed by drink, she was remarkably docile.

Neither a cry nor a stir escaped her; not even a sigh. Silent as though in slumber—or perhaps, indeed, asleep.

Her head barely touched the pillow when Megan's eyes were already closed, breathing steadiest when unconscious.

Ryan stood there, brows furrowing in bemusement—this girl—

Yet, as he spotted her delicate skin, a calming rationale prevailed.

Perhaps sleeping was for the best?

Ryan sauntered into Megan’s bathroom, a first venture into the intimate domain of a woman.

The first sight that greeted him: freshly washed lingerie draped to dry.

Its elegant floral design spoke volumes, declaring a sensual allure to Ryan.

Mind your stride, he reminded himself, resisting the urge to meddle.

Her vanity was charmingly cluttered, resonating with her carefree manner.

Pausing, he glanced back at Megan sprawled serenely on the bed, before making a swift exit to his own room for a quick bathe and brush-up.

On his return trip, he clutched a fluffy, oversized towel.

Upon stepping back in, Ryan froze momentarily.

Perhaps too warm, she’d shrugged off her denim and top, left only in a camisole and panties, curled in repose on the bedding.

The camisole had bunched messily, revealing a ribbon of her narrow waist.

Creamy thighs extended freely, blue-grey panties modestly covering her core, amplifying its appeal.

Dry-throated, Ryan swallowed.

Perched on the bed's edge, he reached to rattle Megan’s arm. “Megan? Time to wake up.”

Her closed-eyed figure merely shifted, pulling the camisole awry, teasingly revealing more of her curved silhouette.

Half her chest peeked out; venturing lower, even a blush of red was visible.

—Countless thoughts prowled his mind like wild things loosed.

The query applied to him as much as it did to others.

Ryan jostled her insistently, gripping her shoulders tighter and hefting her upward.

“Megan? You need to wake up!”

“Quit bugging me—”

Her drawl elongated in a sulky whimper, akin to a drowsy child’s.

“…one more nudge, and I’ll take that as consent.”

With stealth, Ryan activated his phone’s recording.

“Megan, do you consent?”

He watched her sleep-heavy face, his shameless anticipation waiting for hasty words to fall.

“Whatever…”

Under her stupor, wearied by his persistence, she granted loosely what he craved to hear.