~ooOoo~
The men burst through the oversized door with chests puffed in perfectly tailored suits. They reeked of money and drew attention from others in the upscale bar. Big-business corporate guys, I assumed. They worked hard but played even harder from what I knew of them.
I sat in a rich mahogany booth, almost hidden in the shadows of the corner… just like I wanted. I hadn’t come to socialize but merely people-watch. I’d holed up long enough, wallowing in the aftermath of the end of another cluster fuck relationship. I needed to be around people that night but was not quite ready to engage.
I watched the she-wolves, with silicone-stuffed body parts testing the seams of their dresses, descend upon the pack of testosterone-oozing males. Ooo, this will be fun. Drool pooled at their stiletto-clad feet before they began pawing their prey. They circled the suits, pursing their plumped puckers, assessing their responses before pairing off. In one case, two claimed the same suit. Maybe a threesome? Or a fun battle for his cock? Like I said, this will be fun!
Oh, wait… one’s being squeezed out. I watched as one of the suits, quite a bit taller than the rest, broke through the pack and slid onto a barstool. Why did the pussies with teeth cut you loose? I wondered.
I sipped the last drop from my glass, and when I looked up again, the cast-out was staring directly at me. Look away! Look away! But it was too late. We’d locked eyes; then he smiled. And I smiled back. No, no, no! Why did you do that? I cursed myself.
I tore my gaze back to my empty glass in hand and tried to track his movements out of the corner of my eye, not wanting to be caught staring again. He’d removed his jacket and was walking my way.
“Would you care to dance?” a voice asked.
I looked up to his extended, expectant hand, and surprisingly, my libido kick-started. His baritone voice with a slight gravel — an immensely arousing mix with his pretty-boy, clean-cut looks — affected me in a very nice way. That and the ridges of a muscular body calling to me from underneath his slim-cut shirt.
Caught off guard by his invitation, I stammered a little, “Umm… this beat’s a little fast for me.”
He wiggled his fingers on his outreached hand and added, “Let's find our own rhythm then.”
I hadn’t come here for this, but I grew curious about how we might “find our own rhythm” and accepted his hand.
“I’m Reed, by the way.”
“Skylar,” I responded, smiling once again. Funny how smiles that had been vacant from my life the last several months came so easily over the previous few minutes.
He led me by the hand, weaving in and out the other couples until we reached a gap in the crowd. Reed drew me against him, placing a hand on my back while I rested one on his shoulder. Then, I simply followed his lead and was surprised at how easily we found our rhythm, ignoring the gyrating movers and shakers surrounding us.
Squeals to my right caught my attention. One of the she-wolves was grinding on one of the suits. They seemed to have found a rhythm of their own as well.
I tilted my head in their direction. “Why are you not hanging with your pack? They’re quite popular with the… ahem… ladies?”
He flashed me a wide smile. “I like to lead, and those ladies are too impatient.”
“I was watching and thought they kicked you out.”
He laughed — a deep, hearty laugh that proved infectious. “I kicked myself out, Skylar. I much preferred the beautiful woman in the corner, waiting for… I wasn’t sure for what, but wanted to find out.”
I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to share with him, so I kept my answer simple. “I just wanted to get out and enjoy a drink. That’s all.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Well, I’m glad you came out tonight, whatever your reason. I only came to celebrate a big win at work with the team. We’re doing a pub crawl, and this is our first stop.”
He continued to lead us in a comfortable, quite erotic dance. My hips began to sway as I shifted from foot to foot. He pressed more firmly on my back, drawing me into him. Soon, I felt the warmth of his body through his shirt. And his fingertips found the cutout in the back of my dress. I shivered at his touch and lay my head on his shoulder. Did he just moan? I wasn’t sure but released a satisfied sigh of my own.
He glanced down. Despite the high neck of my navy dress, the clingy fabric couldn’t hide the fullness of my breasts. I definitely heard another moan from him that time.
“How do you spend your days, Skylar?” he asked, caressing my back while he spoke.
“I work in an art gallery.” Suddenly wanting to impress him, I added, “Actually, I own the gallery.”
“Impressive. Are you an artist?”
“When inspired.”
I’d definitely be sketching him later that night. Anxious to see if I could capture his quiet dominance on paper. It was there, of that I was sure, despite his politeness and soft whispers in my ear while we danced; his firm hand on my back, guiding me, gave him away.
I nuzzled my nose against his neck, enjoying being close to a man again—Reed, in particular.
When the song ended, the band announced a break. He led me back to the booth, holding my hand until I sat down. “May I join you?”
I hesitated to respond, suddenly nervous about where this was going. “Yes, but understand, I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”
He slid into the booth, chuckling. “I understand, and for the record, I wasn’t asking.”
My cheeks burned. “Oh! I’m sorry… I just…”
“It’s okay. I’m sure many men cozy up to you with those hopes.” He reached across the table, grabbed one of my hands, and looked at me with eyes a little too piercing. “Just so you know, I don’t fuck a woman on the first night… if I’m truly interested in her.”
I’m embarrassed that I blushed like a virgin schoolgirl who’d never been complimented before.
I didn’t know what to say next and was relieved when he glanced at my empty drink glass and asked, “May I buy you another drink? Perhaps a shot of something.”
“Thank you, but,” I wrinkled my nose, “no shots for me.”
“Why no shots?”
“I prefer the slower burn that comes from sipping my bourbon and soda. Shots for me skip past the enjoyable buzz stage straight to drunk.“
“Interesting.” He held his intense gaze that seemed to look into me and continued, “Be right back with two bourbon and sodas.”
That was my first opportunity to look at his backside, and it didn’t disappoint. Many men look flat-assed in dress pants, but not him. He nicely filled the seat of his trousers.
He returned with our drinks, and the conversation flowed as if we were old friends. Easy. Comfortable. That evening wasn’t going as planned, but I was enjoying the unexpected twist in the road. Just keep things light, I told myself.
“So, I told you I won’t try to fuck you tonight. But, may I ask you something personal?”
“Sure, ask away.” But I may not answer.
“How would you want me to do it?”
“Do what?” I responded, then raised my drink to my lips.
“Fuck you.” His lips curled into a mischievous smile.
I sputtered and coughed, choking on my drink, but I tried to compose myself. “Umm… no man’s ever asked me that before.” And so much for keeping things light!
“Well, that’s a damn shame, but I’m asking now.” His eyes gave away his growing arousal as his pupils swallowed his blue irises. “You know the mind is the sexiest part of the body. You’re obviously an intelligent woman. I know that I’m an intelligent man.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice, “And we’ve made it clear to one another that we don’t want to fuck tonight. But… we could at least talk about it, right?”
Never before had a man wanted to engage in an intimate conversation like this with me. I’m not going to lie; I found his question incredibly sexy and decided to follow my hardening nipples’ lead and play along despite reservations.
“Hmmm. I’m not sure how to start.”
“Close your eyes.” He spoke softly, and if there was such a thing as a bedroom voice, he had it.
I obeyed.
Of course, I obeyed at this point and fanned my skirt on my rapidly heating crotch.
