"Don’t Play with Fire Unless You’re Ready to Melt"
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He thought she was just another pretty face at the club.
Red lips. Black heels. Dangerous smile.
He leaned in with a smirk, thinking he was in control.
“Hey, beautiful. You alone?”
She turned slowly, locking eyes.
“I’m not alone — I’m just untamed.”
His grin faltered, but he stayed.
Challenge accepted.
They danced — her movements like flames, his like smoke.
The air between them pulsed with heat.
“You’re trouble,” he whispered in her ear.
She laughed, low and wicked.
“Baby,” she said, “don’t play with fire…”
Her hand traced his chest.
“…unless you’re ready to melt.”
By the time the night ended,
He wasn’t sure what hit him.
All he knew was the burn.
Sweet, slow, unforgettable.
And she? She never looked back.
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