The Submission of Amelia
Part I
She sat at the bar, swirling the swizzle stick in her mostly water rum and coke, idly viewing the crowd. Amelia had come here with one intent, to find someone, take them home, and fuck their brains out. No one seemed to jump out at her as a potential candidate for a night of kinky debauchery. She picked the drink up and quickly swallowed it down, throwing a five on the bar and waving a vague goodbye in the general direction of the attractive bartenders in lingerie and tiny thongs behind the bar.
She checked her pockets as she stood, making sure her cash and ID were still where she left them and started making her way through the writhing, throbbing, lust-crazed crowd on both the dance floor and surrounding table. She looked down for a moment, her forward momentum stopped by an awfully hard, brick wall. Startled, she gasped and looked up into the greenest eyes she'd ever seen, the wall belonging to the chest of well-chiseled man, dressed in a blue button-down shirt. The top two buttons had been freed, showing a mass of dark, curly hair peeking out above the v-line.
Clearing her throat, she looked him dead in the eyes, "Excuse me, I wasn't paying attention." She murmured, going to move around him before he could speak. Before she could complete her hasty departure, a thick hand wrapped around her arm, just above her elbow stopping her in her tracks.
"You should pay more attention to where you're going," he said, his voice like silken butter, melting over her in a rush.
"I've apologized," she sighed out. "What more would you like from me?" She said, glaring into those startling green eyes.
"Well," he said, his gaze intent, seeming to burn to the center of her. "You could start by letting me buy you a drink." It wasn't a request, it was a command, one that sent shivers through her body.
"Sorry," she said, almost defiantly, knowing he wouldn't like her dismissal, but he was the first interesting person she had seen in the club that evening and she wanted to see how far this could go. "I've had my limit and I was just getting ready to leave." She tried to free her arm, but his grip was tight, and he wasn't going to let her go. "Could I have my arm please?" She asked, the saccharine sweetness dripping from her tongue.
He looked at her and smirked, "No, I don't think so," he said, pulling her toward a corner table, the lights very low in that area of the club, a lot of privacy ensured by its location.
"Seriously, let me go, I am not interested." Her voice said the words but there was little conviction behind them, she could hear by the smirk in his next words that he'd seen right through her.
"Oh, you are very interested, and I think I might just be what you've been looking for all night." He pushed her gently into the alcove of the table, sliding in next to her, signaling one of the scantily clad waitresses over. "What are you drinking?" he asked, "and you better tell her, or I will order something for you." His words only a minor threat.
"Rum and Coke, top shelf only, the most expensive rum you have in stock," she said, her own smirk playing on her lips. If he wanted to play this game, she could to.
