Authors Note: Hey guys! This is my first submitted work so please comment and tell me what you think! Just a quick note that this is hopefully, depending on how it goes, the first chapter of an ongoing story. It's a bit slow and not at all a "quick finish," kind of work. So if you're looking to wham, bam, thank you ma'am, you've come to the wrong story. Nonetheless I hope you enjoy my work!
*All characters involved are fictional and above the age of 18. Thank you.
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The cars whirling by whipped the black strands of her hair into her face, immersing her bright green eyes into a vision of darkness. Reaching for her wrist, Izabella yanked on the elastic band and began to attempt to tame the lengthy locks. Struggle as she might her hair simply waltzed on, taking each passing car and the wind it brought as if it were a new partner and a new rhythm. Giving up she returned the hair tie back to its rightful place on her wrist.
"This is why I need a car," Izabella muttered as she continued her journey. "Living is a complete inconvenience without a car. Getting to work, getting home. It's an effort to simply survive!"
Turning the corner of 5
th
Avenue Izabella recognized the club that she often frequented with her friends on their evenings off, The Gray Fox.
Maybe just one quick drink
she thought as she found herself already at the entrance of the building. The bouncer flashed her a grin and moved the velvet rope aside, letting her in. For a Thursday night the place was surely packed. On the dancefloor there were enough bodies to erect a small army, and the bar was completely crowded.
"So much for that drink," Izabella groaned in defeat.
There is no way I'll ever find a seat, let alone grab the bartender's attention to even order a drink. I guess I'll just be going-
"You look like you could use a drink."
Izabella turned to meet a pair of silver eyes gleaming at her.
Well hello Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome.
Instinctively she licked her lips, moistening the soft flesh.
"Why don't you join me at the bar?" The mystery man suggested as his silver eyes began to glaze over. "I promise I don't bite- hard." With a wink he grabbed Izabella's wrist and began to lead her towards the edge of the bar.
Had he not been holding her wrist Izabella would've lost him in the crowd. Face to face he was quite attractive, far above average, but with his back turned his dark brown mop and his slightly tall stature blended in with flashing lights and dark shadows. In fact, the only feature of his that was truly striking were those light gray eyes.
"My name is Damien. Yours?" He asked, turning his body towards Izabella still grasping her flesh. With precision his fingers began to play at her hair tie, rolling it against her skin.
"Umm, Izabella. But everyone calls me Iza for short." Izabella stated.
My wrist is starting to hurt.
Naturally she began to pull at her wrist, attempting to loosen Damien's grip. She was able to gain a little freedom as the bartender began to approach them.
"One gin and tonic and one," Damien paused, turning his vision towards Izabella, his eyes began to scan her body up and down. "Long Island Iced Tea, extra strong." He ordered, his gaze never leaving Izabella's figure.
"Iza, I like it. It's unique. But I rather am fond of Bella. Iza is different. I don't know many Izas. In fact, I don't know a single one." He scoffed, sliding his grip from Izabella's wrist towards her elbow. Leaning in he whispered, his hot breath caressing Izabella's ear, "But Bella has this natural beauty about it. Something classical and effervescent. Don't you think, Bella?" Leaning back his gray eyes gleamed, a certain spirit there that wasn't there before. Something. . Mischievous.
"I'm really uncomfortable." Izabella stuttered, intensifying her attempt to break free from his hold. "I really should get going."
"Going?" Damien asked, his silver gaze darkening at her widening eyes, "But you just got here. You've had a long day working at the office, I can tell from your attire that you must work in one of these many corporate towers that habitat downtown. I've seen you here before, you know? Dancing with your friends. That blonde one you're with, she's quite delicious isn't she? I'd love to pull on those golden curls of her's until she screams my name. I bet you she's quite experienced between the sheets."
Izabella's breath quickened.
Who is this guy?
"What's her name?" Damien questioned, thrusting his face towards Izabella's until their noses brushed. "What's her name Izabella?"
"Jaime." She breathed. Feeling hopeless Izabella caved. Something about this man's demeanor was frightening yet arousing at the same time. She could feel her cheeks beginning to flush.
"Good girl," he purred. Licking his lips he inched his face closer and closer. After what felt like an eternity his lips finally came crashing down onto her awaiting mouth. Sliding his tongue in and out, exploring her, Damien could feel Izabella's excitement growing. Breaking away Damien smirked. "Thank you so much for telling me her name my dear Bella. Are you going to be dancing with her per usual this weekend? Saturday at nine?"
"Mhm," Izabella murmured, unable to speak. His lips were so rough, controlling and forceful. Just the thought of them trailing down her neck had her thighs squirming together. Naturally her right hand dropped to rub the mound that was growing more aroused by the second.
"Is my dear Bella turned on?" Damien mused, amusement swimming in the silver pools that stood in place of his eyes. "Why don't you really go at it?"
Izabella looked at him, her eyes growing with question. Her hand stopping its arbitrary motion. As her face grew warm with embarrassment she began to pull her gray pencil skirt back into place. Suddenly a hand jutted out and stopped her.
"No. Finish yourself." Damien demanded. Slowly his hand guided her's under her skirt and back towards her flesh.
