By the time everything wrapped up, it was already quite late. Chief Layla, in high spirits after the successful resolution of the case, decided to treat the team to a celebratory dinner.
Everyone gathered at a nearby bar-restaurant, the air buzzing with laughter and camaraderie. Plates clinked, glasses were raised, and for the first time in weeks, the team allowed themselves to relax.
Frank nursed a beer at the table, his mind wandering to the events of the past few days. As much as he felt the weight of the case, tonight was about letting go—even if just for a while.
Zoey, visibly tipsy and cheeks flushed from alcohol, leaned in close, draping her arm around his neck. "Frank," she said, her voice slurring slightly but brimming with warmth, "you're amazing. I've never felt more proud of this job than I do today."
Her proximity made him uncomfortable, but before he could respond, another arm snaked around his neck from the other side. It was Layla.
"Indeed, Frank," Layla said, her grin uncharacteristically playful. "This was the biggest case of my career. I couldn't be prouder of this team—and of you."
Before Frank could process what was happening, Layla leaned in and pressed a quick but unmistakably deep kiss on his lips. His eyes widened in shock, but before he could react, she pulled away with a smirk.
"Consider that a reward," she said, her tone teasing. "Keep it up, and who knows? You might earn better rewards." She winked before walking away, leaving Frank stunned and the others laughing in good-natured amusement.
Meanwhile, Zoey was still clinging to his side, her face buried against his shoulder. Her soft laughter tickled his neck, and her warm breath sent a shiver down his spine. Her arms felt snug around him, and her proximity made it increasingly difficult for Frank to keep his composure.
"I think you've had a bit too much to drink, Zoey," he said gently. "You should head home."
"Of course I've had too much!" she giggled, tugging at his arm. "I'm happy! But are you going to let a drunk woman drive home all by herself?"
Before Frank could respond, James chimed in from across the table, his grin as mischievous as ever. "She's right, Frank. You should take Zoey home safely. Can't have her getting into any trouble."
"Yeah!" "Go on, Frank!"
"Come on, don't leave her hanging!"
The rest of the team joined in, their knowing smiles making Frank feel like he was caught in a spotlight.
Frank sighed. "Okay, okay," he muttered, standing up and carefully supporting Zoey. His arm slid around her waist, while her arm looped around his neck for balance. Her body pressed snugly against his, and the proximity was almost too much to handle.
When his eyes inadvertently wandered downward, his breath caught. A few of Zoey's shirt buttons had come undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. The contrast of creamy skin against a sleek black bra created an enticing sight—a soft, tempting valley that made his heart race.
Zoey noticed his reaction immediately and smirked. With a playful gleam in her eyes, she cupped one of her breasts over her shirt and teased, "Do you like it? Want to play with it?"
Frank nearly choked on his own saliva, coughing awkwardly as his face turned crimson. "Cough… Cough… I was just thinking about… something else," he stammered, trying to regain composure.
Ignoring her amused expression, Frank helped her to the car, guiding her into the passenger seat before settling in behind the wheel. Zoey quickly drifted off, too drunk to keep herself awake.
The drive to her apartment didn't take long. Her place was close, and Frank found himself grateful for that small mercy. Once there, the fingerprint lock on her door made entering easy.
Dragging her inside and into the bedroom, Frank laid her gently on the bed. He straightened up, ready to leave—but an unwelcome, tempting thought wormed its way into his mind.
Dragging Zoey into her bedroom, Frank gently laid her down on the bed. He straightened up, ready to leave, but a wicked thought crept into his mind.
"Maybe… I should… just give it a squeeze," he muttered under his breath, his eyes glued to her alluring figure. Zoey lay sprawled across the bed, her chest rising and falling softly as she slept. Her dark, lacy bra barely contained her ample curves, and the unbuttoned shirt only amplified the temptation.
His mind had been fixated on her ever since he caught a glimpse of her cleavage earlier. The image refused to fade, tormenting him. "She's asleep anyway… it's just one squeeze," he whispered to himself, trying to justify the thought. Slowly, he walked back to the bed, his hand trembling as he reached out.
Finally, his palm wrapped around her soft, warm flesh. He gave it a gentle squeeze.
"So soft… and fragrant…" he muttered, leaning closer to take in her scent.
But before he could fully revel in the moment, a voice startled him.
"Finally! You manned up. I was starting to think you might be gay," Zoey teased, her voice playful and confident.
Frank froze, his mind going blank. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he struggled to process what had just happened.
Before he could stammer an explanation, Zoey smirked and reached out, her hand pressing firmly against the back of his head. With surprising strength, she pushed him forward, his face landing squarely between her soft, pillowy curves.
"If you think they smell so good, why not take a deeper sniff?" she teased again, her sultry voice laced with amusement.
This time, her words sank in, and everything clicked. Zoey had never been asleep. She had been awake the entire time, deliberately giving him opportunities to make the first move.
The realization sent a rush of mixed emotions through Frank—shock, relief, and an undeniable thrill. As it all sank in, he let out a shaky breath and allowed himself to relax.
"Well," he thought, a wry grin tugging at his lips, "if she wants me to focus on the 'matter' at hand… then who am I do deny the offer."
His fingers curled slightly, giving her soft, warm flesh another gentle squeeze.