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“I'm interested in things with more substance.”
“That’s very vague of you.” I chuckle, using her own words against her.
The corner of her mouth curls upwards into a very alluring half grin.
“Stay for one more drink?”
“Thank you, but this really isn’t my scene.”
“The party? Or me?”
She looks me up and down with intensity in her gaze.
“The party.”
“Can I give you a ride home?”
She laughs.
“I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
How is this girl turning me down so calmly, so smoothly?
"I see." Irritation prickles at me, yet I'm undeniably aroused. The sense of challenge intensifies. I have a history of getting what I desire, be it tonight or some other time. I will have what I want.
Seraphina stands. Her shapely legs catching my eye.
I stand as well, over a head taller than her. She looks fierce and composed despite her guarded nature and small build.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Seraphina. I hope to spend time with you again soon?”
“It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Antonio.”
I step aside so that she can walk past me, but only enough to allow a small space so she has to brush against my body. Her scent washes over me in exotic ways. She smells of rose and honey. Images of wild nature flash through my mind. Beautiful.
As she presses against me, her hand touches my waist. My blood pumps faster, and my skin heats under her touch. I resist the urge and press harder against her as my cock stirs.
Patience. This one requires patience.
She turns to look over her shoulder and smiles at me.
“Thanks again, Antonio.”
Then she walks into the crowd, her body disappearing from sight, and I'm left staring after her with my brows knotted in contemplation.
7
Seraphina
My bedroom looks likea truckload of university supplies has crashed into it and overturned. I have boxes open, and I'm trying to sort through all of my textbooks, study notes and stationery. It's time to pack it all away. It feels strange to be closing this chapter of my life. I thought it would never end. It felt like it would never end, that’s for sure. All those hours of studying. Late nights leaning over textbooks with the end of a pen dipped into my mouth, focused and taking notes. It's all over. I'll never have to do that again. The thought is difficult to comprehend, as it has been my only real responsibility for a few years now.
I have a sense of freedom, but the same sense of sadness and anger that I always feel weighs it down. The need for revenge.Obsessing it. I know it isn't healthy. I know my life might be better if I could just forget everything. But I know I can’t.
I slide one of the heavy textbooks into a box, letting my fingers drift over the spine for a moment. It's time for me to focus on the most important thing of all - finding out what happened to my parents. Learning who was responsible and plotting a way to take something from them to cause them as much pain as they caused me.
I think again about the man I met last night. I have heard about the boy who was raised in Hong Kong after his mother had to flee New York to escape his cruel, tyrant of a father. The mafia boss. My intuition tells me he is that boy from the stories. He avoided answering my questions, so many of them, but I'm almost certain.
I lay in bed last night, regretting not being more forward with him. Perhaps I could have learned more; perhaps he is the one who could have led me right to the people I'm looking for - in fact - he might be the person I'm looking for. If I'm right, his family killed my parents. But I didn't take full advantage of the situation last night, so I have lost that opportunity and now I must just focus on getting to New York.
