Provocative

Chapter 2- you know i want you

My eyes met his, the pale blue hue stood out against his tan skin. He stood at about 6 foot 4, shoulders broad and tattoos littered his arms. A confidence smile tugged at his lips as he watched me intently.

I kept his eye contact, before raising the glass of burning amber liquid to my lips. It ran down my throat, before settling warmly in my stomach. Neither of us said anything, made any moves or even breathed. The next minute he leaned across me, almost if to kiss me, but he caught the attention of the bar tender. He smelt like the air after a long damp rain fall, when the sun came back out and burned the tarmac. He was so close I could feel the caress of his breath against my ear.

"Most expensive whisky... on the rocks" he spoke, a velvety thick accent counted his words, his voice deep and gruff. As the bar tender began working, I expected him to move, but he just stayed there, the only thing moving was his gaze which glared down at me. His eyes burnt into mine, behind them a deep seated desire... I struggled to contain the slight nervousness that crept through me, wanting to to blush... to look away... to leave... But I felt right... it felt right. Being so close to him was right...

The bartender slid the glass across the bar, he briskly took the glass, before taking a long sip. He pushed himself from the bar, before taking one final look at me.

"Until next time..." he whispered, he left with a victorious look on his face, retreating to the dark corner of the club.

"Who the fűck was that" I muttered, downing my drink in one swift motion. "Another please" I said to the bartender before turning back to the bar.

"Hey girl" Sasha announced. She had changed into a simple pair of white jeans, with a flowing pink top. Her short hair still pin straight, her once heavy makeup now replaced with a list natural look, showing her freckles. She grinned at Max behind the bar, "maxy can I have a large rosè?" She said flirting, she loved teasing him, she knew he had a crush on her had done since he saw her.

"Who was that?" I asked, knowing she had seen our exchange.

"What the 6 foot god knows what adonis?" She chuckled, before scrolling on her phone. "No idea. He's got lots of money though... im hoping he wants a dance tomorrow..."

"Me too..." I muttered before downing my drink.

-

It was 6am when I got home, I stumbled up the stairs fumbling for my keys. "Shhhh" I scolded myself, before breaking out in fits of laughter. The lights were off, not a suprise... he never woke up early, god he'd probably been with some girl all night. He lay on the couch, his scruffy blonde hair flopped over his forehead. He was shirtless, only wearing a pair of scruffy grey sweat pants. One sock hung off his foot, the other thrown over the television. He snored loudly, dribble draining from his mouth. I tiptoed in, placing my keys on the side.

Please don't wake up.

I slowly padded through the house, finally about to reach my room before his phone screamed out. He shot up, coughing, before his eyes settled on me.
"Look what the cat dragged in" he chuckled, clearly amusing himself.

"I'm going to bed" I replied, surprisingly meek for me.

"How many people did you sleep with last night? Earn us lots of money?" He jeered, standing up from the sofa.

"Fùck you Ollie. I could ask you how many girls you shagged last night but we agreed not to anymore!" I half screamed half whispered.

"2." He said so calmly.

"God I hate you..." I sneered.

Me and Ollie had been together since high school, when we were 13 he was the sweetest guy in the school. His floppy blonde hair sat perfectly on his head, his green eyes so bright and full of life. Something changed in him... something I couldn't comprehend.. he cheated... on the night of his birthday he went out, and didn't return for 3 days. Apparently he'd gone to this house party where there was a huge 3 day oŕgy going on.... He didn't care about how worried I was... how I spent all night phoning everyone I ever knew... how I went to every club... every hotel... I screamed at the poor police.

"Your the fuķing stripper here Cassie. Your the one flaunting your body to any man willing to pay you enough" he spat. "Atleast I don't get paid to fucķ people... how many STI's have you had recently"

"You know why I do what I do..." I replied. With him I was quiet... downtrodden...
I couldn't leave him though...

"Because its the only job you could get after your petty theft criminal record and the murder we don't talk about!"

That was why. Why I couldn't leave him... he knew about the murder... and if I left... he'd tell the police everything.