Love Drug (Summer and Fraser) novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3 One More Time, Baby

Fraser shot Xavier a cold, cutting glance.

He walked to the liquor cabinet, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, poured himself a full glass, and downed it in one go. The burn of the alcohol finally cleared the lingering heat from the night’s indulgence.

Xavier clicked his tongue teasingly. "Well, well… looks like someone finally got lucky. Guess my stash of meds is useless now, huh? So, who’s the woman that managed to tame our untouchable Bossman?"

Xavier was dying of curiosity.

Fraser was infamous in the business world for being ruthless and cold-hearted. He was decisive, merciless, and always in control. But in their private circle, he was different from other wealthy man like Xavier.

Xavier enjoyed unwinding with drinks, actresses, and high-end escorts. If they found someone they liked, a little cash was nothing for a night of pleasure.

Fraser played too—but his version of fun was different. Racing, surfing, skydiving, boxing—he only cared about the thrill. Women? Too much trouble.

Just as Xavier assumed Fraser wouldn’t answer, Fraser placed his empty glass on the counter.

With a casual flick of his fingers, the glass spun in place, casting streaks of reflected light across the surface. His dark eyes remained indifferent as he finally spoke.

"Summer Stewart."

Xavier froze. He hadn’t expected that.

Lately, Summer’s name had been making waves in high society.

Not because the Stewart family was particularly prestigious, but because she was Trevor Larson’s fiancée.

Trevor and Fraser had always been business rivals.

They were both at the top of Havenbrook’s elite, but they moved in entirely different circles.

Recently, Trevor had made headlines for throwing a grand wedding for his first love, Peyton. The whole city was gossiping about it, and naturally, his actual fiancée, Summer, had become the laughingstock of high society.

Even Xavier had heard about it. He couldn’t help but ask, "Fraser, don’t tell me you did this just to mess with Trevor? If you wanted to get under his skin, wouldn’t Peyton be the better choice? Summer’s completely out of favor these days."

Fraser’s sharp gaze flicked toward him.

Xavier instantly felt a chill down his spine.

Fraser scoffed. "You think Trevor is worth that kind of effort?"

Xavier let out an awkward laugh. "Trevor’s not worth your time, sure. But Summer is his fiancée, and you two… well, it’s a little messy."

He wasn’t about to say it out loud, but technically speaking, didn’t that make Fraser the homewrecker here?

Fraser narrowed his eyes. "You sure have a way with words."

Xavier fell silent. Was Fraser actually thinking about cutting his tongue out?

"Get lost before I make sure you don’t have a tongue to run anymore."

Alright, alright—he’d hit a nerve. If Fraser wanted him gone, he’d take the hint.

Except Xavier didn’t just leave.

He took off.

Moments later, a private jet soared into the sky.

…

Summer had been put through the wringer for hours. By the time the drug wore off, all that remained was an aching exhaustion that made her feel like her entire body had been taken apart and put back together.

Then, suddenly—

The deafening roar of a plane engine shook the villa.

She stirred, groggy, slowly opening her eyes.

As she sat up, the silk blanket slipped from her body, revealing skin covered in scattered, lingering traces of passion.

The memories from hours ago rushed back.

She had slept with Fraser.

And worse—she had been the one to initiate it.

Her face burned. She had no idea how to even process what had happened.

Then—

The bedroom door creaked open.

On instinct, Summer immediately lay back down, yanking the blanket over herself, gripping the edges tightly.

The sound of steady, unhurried footsteps approached the bed.

She held her breath, lashes quivering, toes curling.

Even with her eyes shut, she could feel the intensity of Fraser’s gaze sweeping over her body.

Just when she thought she might suffocate from the tension—

"You’ve already slept with me, Ms. Stewart. Don’t tell me you’re planning to pretend it never happened?"

His lazy, deep voice echoed through the room.

Summer’s heart pounded. Slowly, carefully, she opened her bright, clear eyes.

Fraser stood beside the bed, tall and broad-shouldered, arms crossed. His dark gaze was calm, but piercing.

This was the first time Summer had looked at him this closely, this clearly.

He wore a patterned shirt, the top few buttons undone, exposing the chiseled line of his collarbone. His posture was relaxed, yet carried an undeniable intensity.

His sharp, sculpted features were striking. Deep-set eyes. A straight, defined nose. Every angle was as if carved by the hands of a master.

Trevor had always had a cold, detached air about him.

Fraser? The corners of his eyes had a sharp, almost mischievous tilt. When he smiled, there was a trace of danger—subtle, but undeniable.

Summer tightened her grip on the blanket and hesitated. "Fraser, I… I didn’t mean to. I was drugged, that’s the only reason I—"

She trailed off, flustered.

"What… what do I owe you?"

She never expected to sleep with the Havenbrook’s Bossman.

Even she was at a loss for words.

Fraser arched a brow at her.

Her long, wavy hair cascaded around her delicate face, her clear eyes carrying a trace of distress.

She was undeniably beautiful—her soft, fair skin covered in the marks he had left behind.

Fraser’s gaze darkened. He leaned back slightly, his voice slow and amused.

"And how exactly do you plan to compensate me?"

Summer hesitated. "I… I could buy you dinner?"

Fraser scoffed. "Do I look like I need you to buy me food?"