Chapter 2: A Trip of the Lip

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"Woman are like bottles of liquor. They should be sampled, savored, then discarded. Matrimony is for men who can't handle their liquor.'' By -Murdoch Wroth, Eighteenth-Century Warlord, Modern Vampire Soldier

Chapter 2: A Trip of the Lip

As soon as the entrance door ceiled shut. My nerves heightened and I became very aware of Dominic's son prancing around in his daddy's office. This Dominic's son was a distraction. I had to confess to myself but I wouldn't admit it openly. I really didn't want him to be my distraction. Just by him standing across from me, he busying himself with drawers and papers, I could always detect him at the corner of my eye.

Nevertheless, like each breath I took I couldn't help but notice the heated way his eyes shifted to stare at me directly. I willed him to not be here. Willed him to be a figment of my imagination because I knew in myself I was afraid to turn my head in his direction and hold his stare. For when I looked at his eyes, I got this uncomfortable sense of insecurity that he could see right through to my personal overwhelming emotions. Those eyes, those eyes emphasizing you will never see me coming. Not realize my true intentions and underestimating me because you never suspected I was trouble.

I am trouble to you.

If I wasn't careful, I could fall and replay the mistake I had made in the past. Falling for love, descending down and having me wishing the feelings were mutual from the man you loved. Soul mate, life mates was all stupid. They don't happen in real life because they only end in a disagreement, in a fight and in the end divorce. Like for instance, in fairy tales, they all lived Happily Ever After, was just a bunch of hogwash.

"So what are your many talents, mute girl?''

What did I tell you, men are pigs and dogs...

This Dominic's spawn, his dada's little son was a prime example.

In turn of a reaction, I crossed my arms and kept my face from looking in his direction. 'Rude, irritating spoiled brat,' I said to myself.

Suddenly, laughter replaced my outward rudeness. I wanted to peek to see how his eyes would light up as he laughed but I ignored the impulse.

"A prissy little whore aren't you, very intriguing. My dad calls you the Strip Teaser. Are you that as the name says? Are you appealing like fruit, very delicious to tease men as you strip to nothing?" I heard his taunting, "What is your name by chance? I know that the first letter of your name is a G. Is your name Ginger? Gena? Glowing beauty? What ever could it be?"

Again, I didn't bother that with a reply. To see those Michelangelo lips meant for kissing sensuously. Breaking my reverie I heard his timber voice once again, "What a temper, temper you have,'' he scolded. "I wonder how temperamental you would become if I kissed you. To taste that fire,'' and in my mind I pictured him leaning beside his father's desk.

Those hands in his pockets nonchalantly, uncaring and passive in his demeanor. Those alluring eyes, those pair pupils calculating me and also testing me by prodding about my career as a prostitute but I sat there as if his insults didn't matter at the least.

"Well, well, well, you're not being a good little lady. Why won't you be eager and willing to listen to me? Why won't you feel free to answer my questions?''

With a smirk, I couldn't help but tease him, "So what. The big honcho's son is not getting what he wants. Aww, you're going to have a hissy fit and have a tantrum now.'' A smile playing at the corner of my lips, yet I still didn't make eye contact with him because my heart would speed up. This man with the dark hair, the amazing eyes and the quick wit brought something within me to the surface.

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