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And I see her.
She’s smiling at some guy standing next to her, but I can tell she’s not having any fun. Her eyes are flat, her lips tight, as her left hand strokes her neck. Her almost white-blonde hair falls around her face like an icy fortress. Her bangs brush just above her warm brown eyes which are already telling me a lifetime of stories about who she is. She’s about as big as a minute, making me wonder if she’s even legal to vote, but I’ve watched the bartenders checking IDs, so she must be at least twenty-one.
How didn’t I see her before now? Jesus fucking Christ, she’s like a siren calling to me. This shit never happens to me.
I’ve had plenty of attention from women—before and after the scars—but this is different. She lights a lamp of concern glowing deep inside me. Wondering what she’s thinking. Does she want that fucking asshole that’s talking to her to go away as much as I want him to?
Her eyes flick toward the wall, then down at the two empty glasses in front of her. She raises a finger to the bartender, who nods as I spot the slick black nail polish tipping her tiny fingers.
She’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Like a goth pixie with luminescent pale skin, pink cheeks matching her plump little lips. Around her neck is a strip of black lace. She looks sure of herself, but at the same time like a bunny ready to scamper away and hide.
Before I can stop myself, I’m moving around the bar. I hate the guy standing next to her, talking away when she’s clearly not interested. She nods now and then, but when the bartender brings her another drink, she tosses it back in a single gump, making a face like it’s the most god-awful thing she’s ever had in her mouth.
I can think of something else that she should be doing with her mouth.
The thought has me warming inside. A low vibration starts in my balls as my shaft thickens.
As I come around the corner at the other end of the bar, I see she’s dressed entirely in black. From the turtleneck of her sweater down to the thick lace-up boots. She’s like a precious little dark princess, and there’s something about her that eases the bricks that weight my chest.
I motion to the bartender for him to pour me another, and another for her. He slides them across the bar as I catch her eye, just as the guy next to her leans down, fingers her hair and takes a sniff.
I lurch forward, setting the two drinks down, spilling the clear liquid over the rims and shoving myself between them.
“Hey!” The guy turns belligerent, but he’s no match for either my skills, my size, or my rage. “What the fuck is your problem?”
I size up the situation. Time slows, I see a flicker of encouragement on her face, tugging her lower lip between her teeth as she fights back a smile, hair falling over her cheeks as she turns away, as if to say, Go ahead. Do it, I don’t want him here either.
I’m on it little one. I’m here for you.
“My problem is you are touching my girlfriend.” The word sounds perfect on my lips as I growl at the guy. “You can leave now. Or not, and we can finish this outside. I don’t want to get blood all over this fancy floor.”
“You? And her? Right.” The guy snaps his tongue against his cheek, Looking me up and down.
Sure. I’m wearing my usual. Three-piece navy suit. White shirt, red tie.
I could be giving a state of the union address. I like neatness. Since I gave up my military uniform, I’ve adopted this instead. I know it screams uptight asshole, which isn’t too far from the truth, I suppose.
“What? You think we don’t go together?” The little noir pixie hands me my shot of vodka, taking the other for herself on a wink, then holds her glass to her lips and I follow in kind.
We both tip our glasses back and then slam them down on the bar, making the asshole jump as he shakes his head.
“I thought you’d never get here.” She sidles toward me, her hands roaming up my chest, leaning her head back making my dick come to life. “Don’t I get a kiss?”
Holy shit, her voice. It’s like a warm bath after nearly freezing to death. She’s so fucking small, and yeah, I’m fucking big.
God, she’s more gorgeous up close, but it’s more than that. I’ve seen plenty of beautiful women and never, ever, have I had this sort of reaction. My throat is dry and I feel like her eyes are seeing my god damn soul. Something I’ve never shown anyone.
The guy is standing there, staring, as the ache down deep feels like it’s going to splinter my bones.
