Lia the Stranger Seducer

"Your mom huh?" the man casually whispered, as he pulled himself closer to Lia, moving her back onto his chest.

"Basically yeah-" Lia sighed as she allowed herself to sink into his firm body.

Lia closed her eyes as she let herself relax, the warmth of his body instantly comforting. The cool, quiet room was a stark contrast to the loud and bustling ballroom outside.

Her head nestled into the space between his shoulder and neck, and his hand rested gently on her arm, his fingers tracing light, absent-minded patterns on her skin.

"So," he murmured, his voice low and almost teasing, "this mother of yours must be quite a force if she can send someone like you into hiding."

Lia laughed softly, feeling the vibration of his chest beneath her cheek. "You have no idea. I think she'd get along well with your typical CIA agent."

"Or a bloodhound," he suggested with a grin, and she felt a chuckle rumble through him.

"She did hunt me down like one," Lia admitted, looking up at him with an amused smile. "Though I have to admit, I was probably being a bit unfair. She just wanted to make sure I was having a good time."

"I hope you're having a good time." he laughed to which Lia could only give him tiny smack on the shoulder.

Rather than get angry, he just pulled her in even tighter.

Lia felt a comfortable silence settle over them, broken only by the faint hum of music seeping through the walls. She sighed, letting her eyes drift shut again, perfectly content in the stillness. She felt his arm shift slightly around her, holding her just a bit closer.

"So…" he murmured after a beat, his breath warm against her ear, "do you often sneak off with strangers at parties?"

Lia laughed, biting her lip as she looked up at him. "Only the ones who happen to be surprisingly good couches."

"Ah," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "So I'm just a piece of furniture to you?"

She looked him up and down, taking in his slightly tousled hair, the amused glint in his eyes, and the faint smirk tugging at his lips. "A very… firm and comfortable piece of furniture."

He shook his head, chuckling. "Flattery, huh? Is that what you use to get what you want?"

"Maybe." Lia smirked, feeling emboldened by his playful gaze. "And it's working, isn't it?"

"Oh, definitely," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

There was a spark in his eyes, something teasing but warm, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She felt his hand slip down to her lower back, pulling her even closer, and her pulse quickened at the sensation. Their faces were close now, so close she could see every detail in his eyes, the way they crinkled slightly at the edges when he smiled.

"So," she whispered, feeling her breath hitch, "should we be getting up?"

He considered her for a moment, his gaze softening. "That's entirely up to you," he murmured. "But personally… I'm not in any hurry to leave."

She felt her cheeks warm at his words, her heart pounding a little faster. He had a quiet confidence that put her at ease.

Without thinking, she reached up, resting her hand against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of him through his shirt. Her fingers traced light patterns along his collarbone, and she felt him shiver slightly under her touch. The realization that she was having an effect on him brought a small, satisfied smile to her lips.

"You're awfully good at this," he murmured, his gaze dropping briefly to her mouth.

"At what?"

"Making yourself comfortable," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. "It's almost like you're trying to make me forget there's a whole party going on outside."

"Good," she whispered, leaning in just a fraction closer. "I'd hate for you to get distracted."

The smirk on his lips deepened, and he slid a hand up her arm, his touch gentle but undeniably possessive. "Trust me," he whispered back, his voice barely more than a murmur, "I'm not going anywhere."

The intensity of his gaze made her breath catch, and she could feel the anticipation building, like the charged air just before a storm.

He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against her forehead, his warm breath sending a shiver through her. She closed her eyes, letting herself melt into his touch, feeling his fingers trail up to her jaw. His hand cupped her face gently, and she felt her heartbeat quicken as his thumb brushed her cheek, so soft and warm it made her pulse race.

Lia couldn't help herself; she tilted her head, her lips brushing against his cheek, so close yet maddeningly restrained. The feeling of his skin against hers, the warmth of his breath so near, made her ache to close the distance between them, but she held back, letting the anticipation linger.

"You know," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, "I'm not usually like this with strangers."

She smiled, her hand finding his, their fingers intertwining in an effortless, intimate gesture. "Well," she replied softly, "maybe tonight's an exception."

Slowly, he pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers. His hand on her waist tightened slightly, pulling her flush against him, and she felt her resolve to follow Lin weakening, her heart beating faster as she leaned into his embrace.

And then, as if sensing her escape plan, he tilted his head, his lips brushing hers in the lightest of kisses. But when, she responded, her mouth moving against his, deepening the kiss just enough to taste the faint hint of whiskey on his breath.

They broke apart slowly, their foreheads still pressed together, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. Her heart was pounding, and she could see the same intensity reflected in his gaze, the unspoken connection between them simmering just below the surface.

"Still comfortable?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement and something deeper, more vulnerable.

She nodded, her hand slipping up to cup his cheek, feeling the faint stubble beneath her fingertips. "More than comfortable."

He smiled, his hand finding its way to her lower back again, holding her close as they fell back into that familiar silence. They didn't need words, not now—not with the way he looked at her, the way his fingers traced small, comforting circles along her back.

After a while, she leaned her head against his shoulder again, letting out a contented sigh. She could feel his fingers absent-mindedly playing with her hair, and she allowed herself to sink into the comfort of his embrace, the warmth of him wrapping around her like a soft, reassuring blanket.

She was going to have to get up.

Eventually.