The Platinum Crescent, a luxurious five star hotel invites only the wealthiest of the city into their arms. As the night drew to a close, the penthouse bar was getting ready to turn in for the night. The glowing candlelight complimented the glamourous brown velvet walls. The soft city lights streamed through the large windows, giving the lingering couples a chance to indulge in romantic views before sneaking away to silk sheets and intoxicating glamour.
Edison bulbs dimly lit the bar area, a long grey marble surface surrounded with plush red chairs. Empty wine glasses lined the mirrored surface, the blonde barwoman wiping away lipstick smudges before loading the dishwasher.
"All I want is your number, babe," a persistent man slurred.
"And all I want is a dishwasher that works in this place," she muttered, slamming the door shut. "You'd think they could afford it in a place like this."
"Come on, I got a room, let's have some fun, babe-" a sharp glare stopped the man mid-sentence. His bloodshot eyes lingered on the woman's full breasts as he pulled out a keycard. Her delicate silver necklace was accidently stuck itself in her cleavage. "You've been flirting with me all night"
"The name's Eve," the woman spat, taking the key card and throwing it back in his face to interrupt his gaze. "And for the third time, I'm not interested."
All Eve could do was shake her head and try to return to her work. It was something she had become accustomed to in her job. A year of drunken stares and swatting away unwanted hands gave Eve a certain experience she never thought she would need. Usually, it wouldn't bother her but tonight was different. Frustration levels were high and this man was beginning to prove too unrelenting for her liking.
"Of course..." the man stood, turning sour. He smashed his glass down on the bar and gritted his teeth. "Should've figured. Innocent bitch, go get yourself a dick and lighten up. I could've made your whole year-"
"I think someone's had too much here," came another voice, deep and smooth. "I think it's time for you to go..."
Eve looked up from her glasses, her big blue eyes as wide as saucers. The man that had just arrived was towered over her aggressor, his skin deeply tanned. A strong, deceiving grip held the drunk's shoulder, pulling him away from Eve. His biceps bulged in the sleeves of his black shirt.
"Out," he growled once more, shoving the drunk out of the way. Once glance at the man was enough to scare him away, scampering out of the bar with nothing more than a few swear words.
"Thanks..." Eve forced a smile. "But I could have handled it."
"I know," the stranger said, setting a sleek black motorbike helmet on the bar. Eve wondered what he would look like on a motorbike for a moment. His leather jacket screamed biker but his well-groomed hair and designer stubble made her doubt the image. "I've seen you ward off enough of 'em in your time here. A drink for the road?"
Eve raised an eyebrow. "The helmet?"
The man smiled, "Just a coke, love."
Eve slid the drink down the bar. She searched his face for familiarities but couldn't find any. "You come here often, then? I've never seen you?"
"Isn't that my line?" he smirked, sipping his drink. "Name's Damon. I'm usually here for a night cap in the booths."
That made sense to Eve. The booths were hidden from her view. "I only work night shifts."
"When all the freaks come out to play," Damon joked with a low voice. He swirled the glass in his hand, almost as if he was drinking whiskey.
Her light laugh made the hairs on his arms stand up. Coming here was the right decision. All he had to do was stay calm. Cool. They descended back into silence as Eve finished cleaning the bar. Damon couldn't keep his eyes from the beautiful woman on front of him.
There was a certain hunger that radiated from him. A darkness in the corner of his eye. A demanding presence.
"I'm giving you a ride home, love," he announced a little roughly, his eyes not meeting hers.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Damon pressed, his eyes fixed on Eve's wide hips, swaying as she came out from behind the bar.
His jaw was tense. Hard. Locked. He was starting to lose control. The situation that he had planned out so carefully was starting to crumble because of a pair of tight, black skinny jeans. He couldn't help it. All the time Damon spent in the bar, he could only imagine what Eve's ass looked like. However, nothing could prepare him for her completely slapable perky one. He felt his pants tighten around his sizeable bulge.
