Hayley Wolfe checked herself in the mirror for the umpteenth time as her friend Magnolia pulled up to the valet. Usually to shy away from the sin vanity, Hayley had to admit, she looked gorgeous. Her usually neck-length red hair had been grown down to the shoulder, her black dress clung dangerously to her thighs and hips, and Open-toed pumps fresh from the shoe store that morning transformed her from punk rock goddess to sexy siren of Belleville.
"You sure you don't want any make-up, Hayley?" Maggie asked curiously.
"No thanks, Mags. I'm pretty sure I don't need it."
"Cocky tonight, aren't we?"
"Every day of my life."
Maggie handed the keys to her father's Porsche to valet, a skinny man who couldn't be anywhere past thirty, or near it, for that matter. "Make sure you take care of my car, good sir."
The valet stood at attention and nodded his head. "Your car's in good hands, Ma'am."
"Ma'am?" Hayley asked, coming around the corner of the dark Porsche, hips swinging vivaciously. "How gentlemanly. I've always had a soft spot for gentleman." She made sure to toss him a very seductive smile as she walked by. Judging by the way he adjusted his pants very quickly to hide his beet-red face (and probably an erection, too), he definitely would be parking their car with utmost precision. "Is he getting lucky tonight?" Maggie couldn't help but whisper. Hayley shrugged."Maybe. Depends on what happens the night is over."
After a quick flash of their I.D.'s to the burly black bouncer, he pulled back a velvet rope and ushered them inside. Inside what had been called "the nightclub of the century" by several radio djs, Hayley immediately knew why. Maggie let out a low whistle, muttering, "My god, this place is bangin'."
To the left was a massive bar, with end-to-end shelves of various wines and whiskies. To the right were dining tables surrounded by a couple of HD TVs playing a boxing match. But it was the center of the dance floor that caught their attention. The floor itself was made entirely glass. Under it was appeared to be a moat, complete with swarming sharks.
"Oh, shit, I gotta get on that," Hayley screamed over the music. "You coming, Mag-" One glance at Maggie answered the question for her. She was staring at the sharks under the dance floor, her face turning a sickly shade of green. "I-I think I need some liquid courage." She said, before dashing towards the bar. Suit yourself, Hayley thought to herself, making her way to the dance floor just as Usher's 'Yeah' begin to pump throughout the building.
"Love this song," She said more to herself than anyone within earshot.
Within moments she found herself lost to the music, dancing nonstop throughout 'Yeah' and 'Party Rock Anthem'. As the catchy beat began to fade out as another song faded in, Hayley began to step off the dance floor to grab a shot of Jack or maybe a Johnny Walker Black, she felt a hand touch her forearm, not to harm, but to get her attention. "Whoa, you can't rock the dance floor like that and just walk away," A voice whispered in her ear.
The very same voice, with breath of ice, planted a light kiss on the nape of her neck. It chilled her collarbone, but warmed her pussy. She turned her head in mellowed surprise and was not disappointed. What greeted her were clear oceans masquerading as eyes, and dark hair matching a black jean and sweater combo. "At least, not without blessing me with a dance, first."
Hayley was at a loss for words. This man was amazing. "With pleasure," she beamed, and held out her hand as he led her back to the dance floor.
So cool and confident, Hayley thought as she pulled herself close and put her hands around his neck. He hasn't even started touching me, and I'm already soaking. They danced in their own perfect world for so long, she almost didn't hear him whisper, "Will you tell me your name?"
