“Three days,” Agatha had purred, her accent thickening with challenge. “You can’t make the next person who walks through that door beg to stay without saying a single word about wanting them.”
The stranger hesitated. Then, inexplicably, she chose the seat at the bar closest to Eve.
Agatha pulled back just enough to hold Eve’s gaze. Her own confident veneer had dissolved into something real—yearning, surrender, and victory all at once.
“And if I win?” Eve had asked, her own smile a secret weapon. Vixen - Eve Sweet and Agatha Vega - Wagered Aff...
Wagered Affection
The air stilled.
Eve’s mask of playful mystery cracked, revealing a raw, genuine heat underneath. “Was I that obvious?” “Three days,” Agatha had purred, her accent thickening
As the door clicked shut, Agatha stared. Her jaw was tight, but her eyes were molten.
Eve Sweet, Agatha Vega
“Darling,” Agatha murmured, closing the distance until her lips ghosted over Eve’s ear. “You’re a brilliant actress. But you forgot one thing.” Agatha pulled back just enough to hold Eve’s gaze
“You lost,” Eve said softly, sliding the napkin aside.
The wager had been Agatha’s idea, born from a late-night debate about seduction. Was it raw intent or delicate art? Agatha, the vixen who hunted, believed in the direct strike. Eve, the enchantress who drew you in, swore by the invisible pull.