Audrey's New Complication

***WARNING*** This story is intended for 18+ only. It has sexually descriptive and mature content. Trigger warnings: spanking and bondage. 

3,000 miles.

That's how far I have ran to put space between me and the demons that haunt me.

I pick up my glass from the bar and tip it back to take the last swig. It's slick from condensation, but the taste of tequila and salt is soothing. An unwanted figure pauses beside me at the bar and a ripple of frustration immediately spreads through my nerves. He looks me up and down, probably trying to figure out how badly he wants to get my dress off me tonight and I can just imagine exactly what he is seeing right now. Wavy Blonde, shoulder-length hair with streaks of light brown. Blue eyes and clear complexion with a touch of make-up. I'm wearing a black A-line dress that is just low cut enough to spark his imagination, complete with black heels. I know I look good. But I'm not dressed up for this fucker. Mama always said if you dress good then you feel good. And Lord knows I could use some good feelings right now.

The kind that comes from good music and even better alcohol. Not the kind that comes from a sweaty, over-zealous man rutting on top of me for a quick fuck. I'm not here to stroke anyone's ego tonight. I'm here to forget about my own problems for a while. The ones that I left 3,000 miles behind me. I just want to enjoy my life and work on my career without any... personal complications.

The figure whistles quietly as his gaze travels down my legs. I peer sideways and frown at his shaggy, blonde hair. His face and hands are dirty, his baggy t-shirt has seen too much sun, and his jeans are in dire need of a belt. "Hey babe, why don't you come join my friends? Gorgeous girl like you shouldn't be sitting alone. I have somewhere better you could be sitting," he winks his eye suggestively and his school boy grin makes me roll my eyes. "How charming, too bad I just enrolled in a convent." I turn back in my seat and ignore the man. I'm sure he'll mumble something about me being a bitch and walk away, looking for more gullible targets. I have better things to do- getting the bartender's attention so I can order a refill, for example.

A sweaty palm lands on my shoulder and I tense. The smell of cigarettes wafts over me, and sends waves of nausea rolling through my belly. I tighten my hand on my glass, and turn to glare at the blonde man. "Hey, look lady, you don't have to be a cunt about it alright? You're here to have a good time and I'm here to have a good time." I lean back in my chair, before slowly peeling his hand off my shoulder. "Listen jackass, maybe I wasn't clear enough before. Let me spell it out for you. What I meant to say is leave me the hell alone."

The man frowns and leans forward, and the fucker is bold enough to place his grimy hand on my thigh. My belly flutters but not in the good way. This creep has a lot of audacity, and his persistence is beginning to make me nervous. He sounds agitated now. "Listen babe, cut the crap. Don't play hard to get, ok? We both know why a beautiful woman like you is at the bar by herself. I'll buy you a few drinks and we'll take a few turns on the dance floor. Then we'll get a room and you can make it worth my time, hmm?" Anger floods my very being but an unfamiliar voice cuts in before I get the chance to reply.

"I think we can both agree that the lady has already given you her answer. I suggest you get goin' before she starts swinging."

The creep takes his hand off my thigh and whirls around to face the new stranger, and my own eyes dart over quickly to evaluate him. I am curious to see the owner of the deep, smooth accent that has come to my aide. An accent like that doesn't belong in Seattle. I would bet money that the man didn't grow up in America. American accents are never that velvety, smooth type of sexy. The man is tall, tanned, and has a head full of black hair. He wears a white button up shirt and navy trousers that do nothing to hide his bulging muscles. I almost gasp at his appearance, and maybe I would have if I wasn't still slightly worried about the creep in front of me. The creep whose face is growing red with anger. "Listen pal, why don't you mind your own? I wasn't talking to you, was I? I'm trying to have a good time with the beautiful lady and I got here first. If you wanted her then you should have got here before-"