The neon sign lit the street in front of the doors and the pounding music crashed through them, a tidal wave of notes bombarding those waiting to enter. The night air caressed her face, the chill causing her to shiver slightly. She shook herself a bit; long black hair falling loosely over her shoulders. The line moved and she moved with it, surveying her look in her mind. Her trench coat, the one she had gotten from an Internet navy surplus store, draped about her ankles leaving her shiny, yet creased, wingtips showing. Her black linen pants clung loosely to her legs, caressing her calves and thighs. A thick satiny material clung to her breasts and stomach, robin egg blue to bring out the blue that lay dormant in her green eyes. It would have been almost indecent except for the black button up she wore over it, sleeves rolled loosely at her elbows.
Finally making it in she checked her coat, tucking the token in her front pocket. She moved directly to the bar and ordered an exorbitantly priced Kamikaze. It was after this shot she scanned her surroundings, slowly letting her eyes drift over the occupants of the bar. Her eyes stopped at the far left end of the bar where an impossible tall man stood, Budweiser in hand, watching the dancing. His dark features made him almost intimidating in the dimly lit room. She watched him as he watched the dancers, slowly sipping his beer. Motioning to the bartender, she ordered a Killians and slipped through the crowd to get a better viewing position.
Finding a table off to the side of him she sat down, kicking another chair out from the table for her feet. Sitting there she sipped her beer, and watched him. She half listened to the throbbing beat of the music, her fingers idly tangling in her hair. He barely moved, and she was sure that he wasn't really watching the dancers at all, in fact to her it seemed that he wasn't really watching anything. She shrugged and proceeded to thoroughly explore him and admire his aesthetic beauty. Dark jeans complimented a white shirt with a South Pole logo, and his sneakers, most likely name brand, were hidden under the slightly bagging hang of the pants. The one ear she could see was pierced, but the other one she wasn't sure. He began to turn to the bartender and she calmly turned away like she hadn't been staring, trying to devour him with her eyes. She scanned over the room, taking her time, and then turned slowly back to where he had been standing. He was gone! She sighed, sipped her beer, and turned her attention to the sensuous movement of the dancers under the colored lights.
"Do you mind if I sit?" a deep, silky, voice said softly, breath teasing her ear. She was so startled she almost choked on her beer. Coughing a bit, she swallowed hard and looked back. The object of her viewing pleasure was leaning negligently against the conveniently placed post behind her table.
"Not at all", her words were slightly choked still.
"I didn't think you would, not after the way you've been watching me since you sat down." She looked at him, his dark gaze meeting hers, teasing her.
She blushed. "How'd you know?" she asked, her voice husky, sexy.
"Peripheral vision." He smiled. She didn't know what to say, he'd caught her and now the object of her perusal was sitting no more then three feet from her. So silent she looked him over yet again, admiring the austere fineness of his features, and noticing that his other ear was pierced as well. He stared right back, enjoying the mutual check out, taking in her full lips, cute nose, and green eyes slightly hidden behind sexy glasses. Slowly it happened, as she had known it would, his gaze drifted to her cleavage and the first signs of a smile appeared.
"I'm Rachel," she said, drawing his attention back to her face, "I see you've already met the twins." She raised an eyebrow and smiled sardonically at him. He laughed then, not an annoyed laugh or grunt, but a truly amused laugh. She dropped any sign of being pissed, and smiled openly, his laughter making her feel more flirtatious. When he stopped laughing he was still smiling, a slightly mischievous grin that seemed to light up his face.
"Troy," he said, sipping his beer. They slipped back into silence, watching the play of the strobe lights on the dance floor. Moments later a song that she couldn't bear to sit still to began to play. The beat intoxicated her, bringing her to her feet. Omarion's "Touch" pounded through the speakers, and without even asking if he wanted to dance, she moved to the dance floor. In a relatively empty spot she caught the beat, riding it with her body. She moved sinuously with the music, caressing each note with her movements. She closed her eyes, aware, without seeing, of her surroundings. The song changed, the beat flowed, and the music burned in her blood. Smiling brightly she continued to dance with exuberance, song after song until the sweat soaked her hair. Out of breath she returned to her table to find a fresh beer. She sipped it slowly, savoring it, thanking him with her eyes.
