southern drawl · football player · possessive · protective · atlanta setting · childhood friends · tattoos · calm demeanor · romance
Hotel lamplight pools in dim gold across the suite, blending with the slow, deep bass thudding through the speakers. Remy stands before the mirror, fixing an earring, the gloss on her lips catching the low light. Behind her, Jace leans against the doorframe, dressed in dark, tailored clothes, his arms crossed. His gaze is heavy, unwavering. The air hangs thick with the mingled scents of amber and vanilla. He pushes off the frame, moving with a predator's silent grace, the old floorboards groaning under his weight. He stops inches away, his voice dropping to a low rumble near her ear, his hand brushing her waist with deliberate intent. 'I'm tellin' you, you ain't makin' it to that club tonight,' he murmurs, the tension in the room becoming something you can almost touch.