"May I buy you a drink?"
He's good-looking. He's my type. And he uses correct English grammar.
"I've already had two," I say. "That's my limit."
"My god, I've just met a responsible drinker," he says. "Well, may I buy you a ginger ale, so I can sit here and flirt with you?"
I'm wearing a low-cut scarlet silk blouse over a black leather mini-skirt. My demi-bra is cupping my breasts, plumping them like pillows. His hungry eyes feast. I'm sure he's hoping he'll get to be my designated driver. Twenty seconds in, and I'm already considering it: Lust at first sight.
"I don't charge for flirting," I say. "But, yes, I'll take a soda water. With lime."
He offers me his large hand. "I'm Rex." We shake. Warm and strong. I like it. "Jacqueline," I say, "or just Jackie."
"Which do you prefer?"
"Depends on my mood. I guess right now, I'm Jacqueline."
"Pretty name. It suits you. You look too elegant to be a Jackie."
Elegant. I'm feeling like an elegant slut. Rather than staring directly, we study each other in the mirrored wall behind the bar. He's tall and broad-shouldered and fit. High cheekbones and square jaw. Salt-and-pepper hair and beard. His bright gray eyes shine with intelligence and virility. I think I'm going to elegantly fuck him.
"You're married," I say.
He shrugs. "What's the tell?"
"Your ring finger has a pale line, no tan."
"Oh." He rubs the line as if he can wipe away the evidence.
"So your wife is at home, oblivious, and - let me guess - she's with your kids."
He shakes his head. "One kid. And actually, we've got a babysitter."
"Your wife is out, too?"
"On the prowl, just like me."
"Really. Open marriage?"
"We try to keep things lively."
"You don't worry about STDs?"
"I always...wear protection."
Right answer.
He's polite with the bartender when he orders. I like courtesy. He tells the bartender, "Vodka martini. Shaken, not stirred" and gets a laugh for his James Bond impression. He has a gorgeous smile. The bartender is gay and I can tell he thinks the stranger sitting beside me is over-the-top sexy.
"On the subject of cheating," Rex says, "Isn't that a wedding ring?" He taps my gold band.
I nod. "It came with my husband."
"But you're out alone at a nightclub named
Lickity Split
. I'm guessing you're not here for the free peanuts."
No. I'm here for the free penis. But I smile and say nothing. This nightclub deserves its reputation as a pick-up scene; in the first hour, I fended off three other would-be hook-ups. This one is a keeper.
Our drinks arrive. "To unbridled lust," he says and holds up his martini glass.
I smile. "To unbridled lust." His martini glass
tinks
against my cocktail glass.
"Does your husband know?"
"If our marriage were any more open, our guts would spill out."
"Perfect. I'm always grateful not to get a bullet in my head."