Things escalate

Lara strutted out of the bar, hips swaying just enough to keep their attention, the heat of whiskey still lingering on her tongue. The gang of men followed, their eyes glued to her every move—but as she stepped onto the dimly lit street, she realized she had underestimated their numbers. Instead of the three she had been flirting with, there were at least seven, all grinning, all cocky, all thinking they had her exactly where they wanted her.

She let out a low whistle. "Wow, didn’t realize I was this popular. Should I start charging?"

One of them, a stocky guy with a tattooed neck and an overinflated ego, laughed. "Oh, we’ll pay you, hermosa. Just not with money."

Lara rolled her eyes, stretching her arms above her head, her tight white tank top riding up slightly to expose a strip of toned abs.

"God, you boys are predictable." She sighed dramatically, flipping her leather jacket open just enough to let them think she was reaching for something dangerous.

Their hands hovered over their weapons. Knives, guns—some had bare fists, thinking they'd enjoy a little "hands-on" time with her first.

Too bad for them.

In a flash, Lara dropped her jacket, using the distraction to slam her elbow into the closest guy’s jaw. He barely had time to grunt before she grabbed his collar and flipped him over her hip, sending him crashing onto the pavement.

The others moved fast, but she was faster.

One lunged—she ducked, twisting her body so smoothly it looked more like a dance than a fight. As she turned, she let her fingers graze his wrist just long enough to yank the knife from his grip, flipping it in her hand.

"Oh honey, you really thought?" She winked before kicking him square in the stomach, sending him staggering back.

More came at her. Lara leapt, wrapping her legs around one thug’s neck in a tight, twisting grip, sending them both tumbling. She landed gracefully, body rolling as she came up to her feet like a cat, just in time to duck under a swinging pipe.

Rip!

She heard the sound before she felt it.

Her tank top—already clinging to her like a second skin—had torn right down the middle, exposing her lacy black bra underneath. The cool night air kissed her bare stomach, her cleavage now fully on display.

Lara smirked.

"Well, now it's a party."

The distraction gave another thug an opening—he grabbed her from behind, arms snaking around her waist. But Lara only laughed, arching her back just enough to grind her firm ass against his hips before slamming her head back into his nose.

He howled, letting her go.

Another shirt rip.

This time, her bra straps snapped.

"Oh for fu—!" Lara barely had time to react before her own damn bra slipped down, leaving her completely topless, her perky breasts bouncing freely as she dodged another attack.

"Seriously?! My favorite bra!" She groaned, but she was already moving, slipping through their grasp, ducking, twisting, weaving.

One by one, they fell—taken out by a combination of sheer agility, raw strength, and a little bit of sexy showmanship.

By the time she roundhouse-kicked the second-to-last guy into a pile of crates, she was completely nude, her jeans torn right off her hips, panties long gone in the chaos. She barely even knew when it had happened—one second she had clothes, the next, she was standing in the moonlight, breathless, glistening with sweat, and absolutely, gloriously naked.

The last guy hesitated, his eyes flicking down to her bare, toned body.

Lara sighed, shifting her weight onto one leg, completely unbothered by her nudity. "Oh c’mon, sweetheart, we both know how this ends."

He lunged.

Lara simply sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, twisted, and flipped him onto his back in one smooth motion. Then, for good measure, she pressed a bare foot against his throat, pinning him down with nothing but effortless dominance.

She smirked, hands on her hips, standing there in all her naked, victorious glory.