Strangers in the Storm ✔

Chapter 3: Tender Hearts

ROXANNE

By the time Roxanne finished her third glass of Blue Label, she was already half in love with the man sitting next to her. Her heart hammered against her chest, pushing her forward, forcing her to make all the mistakes in one night. Her mind, bathing in alcohol, had no means or power to stop her anymore.

The kiss still lingered on her lips; beguiling, inviting, seductive. A mistake waiting to happen. An attempt at happiness in this cruel, loveless world.

Roxanne looked at the dancefloor, where her favourite friend ground her ass against Andre's crotch shamelessly, ignoring the disgusted glances thrown her way.

"Don't look at your friend." Damien said. "Look at me."

Roxanne listened, getting momentarily lost in the depths of his eyes. She wanted to come with him, but she wasn't the type to have one night stands. No, she was too quick to develop feelings and casual sex just wasn't a part of her vocabulary.

But judging by her overall luck in love, it was safe to assume she might have been doing something wrong. Everyone's always left her, despite her trying to be the best possible version of herself in every relationship.

Drunk, desperate and resentful, Roxanne took in a sharp breath.

"Let's get out of here."

Damien grabbed the bottle of Blue Label in one hand and offered another to her. Roxanne accepted, her heartbeat picking up the pace. What would Mike say if he saw her right now? What would Addison say if she saw her right now?

Brenda stopped dancing for a second once she noticed them leaving the booth. Her intoxicated gaze widened, she offered a lopsided grin and raised her thumbs up.

Roxanne rolled her eyes and approached her friend, "Are you going to be alright?"

"Oh, yes." Brenda shook her ass to the music. "I'm having the time of my life. What about you?"

Roxanne swallowed the excitement, "I'm gonna get out of here."

Brenda looked at Damien, "Alone or...?"

"Not alone." Roxanne whispered.

Her friend grinned, "Good girl."

Damien took his wallet and his leather jacket, and they walked through the front door, leaving the bar's hazy atmosphere behind them. The thick, summer air slammed into Roxanne, the smell of rain lifted off the asphalt, and the streets seemed to radiate heat. She had hoped she would sober up once she left the bar, but the air outside pushed her deeper into drunkenness.

Mind forgotten elsewhere, Roxanne followed the man she's met tonight into the cab. The moment the door closed, his hands wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers.

Intoxication and adrenaline made her ignore the cab driver in the front seat. Her palms trailed over Damien's muscles, all the way to his face, where her fingers entangled into his soft hair. His lips felt rougher against her soft ones, his touch devoured her, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs excited her.

Too soon, her drunken mind tried to shout, but his touch silenced it. Roxanne's heart beat in her temples, her fingertips, and her throat, loud and almost painful.

Roxanne could not tell how long they've been making out in the cab, but once the car stopped in front of a boxy, modern building, she felt giddy and delirious; high on the stranger's kisses.

Damien opened the door to the lobby; a clean-cut, white hallway, with pristine staircases and cameras blinking above their heads, and led her to the elevator.