The music slammed into me as I stepped through the door, instantly making me think of hot, hard, and furious sex. The bar was packed, it was a holiday after all, and by the looks of thing, not too many were going to be going home alone. The dance floor looked like a humpfest. Dark and smoky and crowded, it was the perfect place to meet a Valentine's Day lover.
I stood off to the side to observe, looking through the men like an old lady checks fruit for ripeness in the grocery store. I wanted to dance and flirt but required a man that was my style. Nope, too skinny. That one's dancing like a monkey on crack. Jesus, is that dude wearing an ascot? The prospects were looking slim.
The song ended and I decided to find a place at the bar. I needed a drink. I was aware of the appreciative looks I got from the men and the equally hostile looks from the women as I bellied up. "Double of Jose Gold," I shouted, the music having just beaten me to the punch, and felt my body begin to move to the fast tempo of the song.
I looked at myself in the mirror behind the bar. The dress was hot, I had to admit. Never one to be shy, I had chosen the most daring and sexy dress the store had offered. It was red, of course. A raging, flaming, fire engine red. Reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe's famous white number, it was stunning with my figure, which is full without being fat. I had completed the look with stockings and high, strappy red heels. A red thong was all I wore beneath and I could see my nipples, hard and round as cherries, thrusting against the silky fabric. The red was highly complimentary to my olive complexion, long and dark hair, and blue eyes.
The drink was placed before me and I reached for my little red purse. The bartender shook his head and pointed down the bar. Leaning forward I looked down the bar to my left and smiled generously at the man that had paid for my drink and managing not to wince when he smiled in return. He was missing at least three teeth and had chosen to replace them with gold ones. Not on your life, buddy boy, I thought as I gave him a little wave.
I lifted the glass to my lips, almost moaning as the smooth bite of the alcohol warmed me from the lips down. I have never diluted my tequila flavor with lime, lemons, or salt, preferring instead to embrace the burn and savor the kick. It was like a lover's kiss trailing down through my body and I felt myself actually tighten at the prospect.
A low voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. I again looked at my reflection and smiled slowly. Time to go a hunting. I turned slowly, scanning the crowd but searching only for one. There.
The lead singer of the band. His voice was like whiskey and sex and heat, all rolled up into this low throb, which I immediately felt echo in my nether regions. He was tall, averagely built, but with muscle definition I could see as he gripped the mic stand and sawed out his lyrics. Good sized hands too, I mused. His hair was a dirty blond with a shaggy cut, the longest strands brushing his shoulders. As he raised his face a bit I caught a flash of green eyes, a dimple at the corner of his mouth on the right side, and a five o'clock shadow.
My knees went a little weak.
I watched him for awhile, noticing how the women flocked in front of the stage. Some of them weren't even pretending to dance; they just stood there watching him. A few others danced alone, while the rest tried to dance with partners while they refused to take their eyes off the stage. It looked pretty awkward. One of the girls, a blond, handed him a red rose at the end of the song. He dimpled and thanked her causing her to flush and ugly shade of mottled red and smile like she had just won the lottery.
My eyes narrowed. Back off, bitches. He's mine.
I looked around and was immediately rewarded. Tall, dark, and handsome just walked in. I waited until his eyes were on me and smiled invitingly, shifting slightly on my heels to stand with one hip cocked. He crossed the room and stood before me. "Hi, I'm Ryan."
The music began anew. I took the hand that he had held out for me to shake and tugged him out onto the dance floor. I did not look at the stage, but instead into Ryan's eyes, smiling at him in a way that promised more. Ryan was easy as pie, leaning in to me as we began to move to the music. It was more subdued than the others they had played. Low and sexy and somehow dark, the music began to invade my body like a physical touch and made me brush my chest against Ryan's.
He grinned, his hands on my waist, and pulled me closer. I risked a glance over his shoulder and jolted as my eyes met those of the lead singer. He stared straight at me and I forgot the plan to be mysterious and to play the flirt, to draw his attention with the dance and then ignore him. I couldn't look away. He stared and sang, in that voice like velvet-coated barbed wired, caressing me and cutting me at the same time. Subconsciously, my lips parted and I began to pant, watching him grip the mic with both hands, wishing it was me.
Ryan finally noticed that I was less than attentive to him and pulled back a little. It was enough to break the spell and I gave him an apologetic smile as I moved into his arms, running my hands over his back. He smelled good, like cologne and money, but I would bet my soul that the smell of sweat and man from the lead singer would be better.
The song ended and Ryan led me to the bar. He ordered drinks and then turned to me, flashing pearly whites but sadly for him, no dimple. He caressed my hand as we waited, telling me about his car (his car?) and doing his best to hold my attention. The drinks came and he paid for his. He wanted to pay for both, but I refused. I wasn't going to be letting Ryan anywhere that he needed to buy me a drink to get into.
He sipped as I tossed back the double shot of tequila, laughing at the way I licked my lips after. I looked into the mirror behind the bar. The band was taking a break it seemed. I felt my nipples draw up, tight and hard. I sat on the stool, legs crossed, and waited, willing him to come to me. A long-fingered, warm hand wrapped around my calf, drawing me out of my reverie, and Ryan leaned down to whisper in my ear. Something about it being Valentine's Day and all alone and let's get out of here and yada, yada, yada.
