Book I Of the 'Not Vanilla' Imagine Series.
𝚃𝚆: includes strong language, Sexual content, Explicit content.
Readers discretion is Advised
Imagines Between you & Michael Jackson.
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♡ 2001 New York City Word Count:9.4k
The small, dimly lit club pulsed with the rhythm of jazz, the deep, resonant notes of the upright bass reverberating through the hardwood floor, making it hum beneath your feet. The saxophone and trumpet danced in harmony, their soulful melody weaving through the air like a shared secret, drawing everyone closer together.
You stood by the bar, the low lighting casting a soft glow on your dark green satin dress. It clung to your curves, highlighting every dip and swell, while a small slit just above your thigh teased at the skin beneath, adding a touch of allure to your silhouette. The cool metal of your glass pressed against your fingertips as you took a slow sip, the burn of the alcohol trailing warmly down your throat, grounding you in the moment.
Around you, the crowd moved to the music, their bodies swaying, some lost in the rhythm, others in each other. A few danced with a sensuality that bordered on indecent, their movements suggestive, as if they were undressing each other with their eyes, anticipation thick in the air.
As you watched, a familiar scent drifted through the room, subtle at first, but unmistakable. It was a scent you had known intimately, a blend of earthy musk and spice that once wrapped around you like a second skin. Your heart tightened, and you shook your head, trying to dispel the memories it stirred. Memories of him—his intoxicating presence, his voice that was as smooth and addictive as any melody playing now, and his touch that left you on a high, one you never wanted to come down from.
He was everything—too much of everything. Perfect in ways that made you lose yourself, made you crave him in ways that scared you. His big, soulful brown eyes had a way of pulling you in, making you feel seen and cherished. And those kisses—how they seared into your soul, his hands firm as they held you, their grip lingering long after he let go.
You threw back the rest of your drink, the liquid scorching away the last traces of him, or at least trying to. It had been five long years since you last saw him, five years of trying to convince yourself you made the right choice in leaving. He was a loving man, but his life was one you could never fully accept, a world you had to walk away from for your own sake. Yet, even now, the thought of him still ached, the craving for him never fully dulled.
The scent hit you again, stronger this time, like a phantom touch against your skin, teasing and insistent. It curled around you, stirring memories you thought you'd buried deep. Your pulse quickened, each beat a reminder of the man who once owned your heart—and who just might be closer than you dared to believe.
"You alright, hun?" the bartender's voice cut through the haze, grounding you in the here and now. She was wiping down the counter with the ease of someone who'd done it a thousand times before, her eyes flicking up to meet yours with concern.
"Uh, yes, I'm fine, thank you," you managed, your voice a little unsteady as you tried to push the past back where it belonged.
She didn't seem entirely convinced, but she nodded, giving you a small, understanding smile. "Just checking. You waiting on someone?" she asked, her tone friendly, but probing gently.
