The Bar

10. Terror

Clara hurried behind the bar, leaning against the counter, her heart rate slowly calming. The knots in her stomach persisted and her head ached at the dissatisfaction.
She gripped the edge of the counter wanting so desperately to feel his touch again. Her sinful thoughts suddenly were put aside however as the front door of the bar swung open and the bell rung.

Two large men in suits moved to the front of the bar, followed by a tall sophisticated and very attractive man.

"I know you," the man said with a smile as he approached Clara. His walk was slow, his eyes moved up and down examining Clara's body with precision. Her breath hitched in her throat. She was about to say that was bar was closed but when she opened her mouth th man spoke over her.

"You were in my gyn last night. You were...well, getting comfortable, with the captain, if my memory serves me correctly," he continues.

She is confused and doesn't say a word to the man. With her nervousness and confusion viewable. The man lends out his hand and introduces himself to put the little girl at ease.

"Callum Cavenaugh, and you are?"
The girl extends her hand as a curtesy and the man take it, pulling her hand to his lips, keeping his eyes on her hauntingly. Her skin was smooth, his lips lingered over her hand, the smell of her perfume swam throuhh his nose.

"Clara."

"My, my, Clara, you are something else aren't you," Cavenaugh says letting the girls hand fall from his.
He steps forward and nearly corners her into the bar. Her bad pressed to the counter. His tall frame over powered her. She felt the need to run, the need to call out to Flint but her thoughts swam through his statement. Something else?

"What do you mean?" She asks as he moves closer.

"Well, when I saw you last night, I thought 'oh shit! This girl is georgous' but boy was I wrong," he says. She raises an eyebrow. She licks her lips then proceeds to bite her bottom lip.

"You are much more than georgous, you are something entirely different," he continues. His hand moves a piece of her hair behind her ear. His touch sends fire through her. Not the same fire thay Flint brought out, but the fire of worry and fear.

"I don't know how he does it," Cavenaugh says shaking his head.
The nervous girl finally mutters a response.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a pretty little thing like you, with that georgous body of yours," he says looking her up and down. Taking in the sight of her lean legs, her waist curvacious and lushious, his mouth nearly watered as he stared at her chest, perky breasts, round, large but not too large. His imagination wonders.

"If I was the captain, you'd be aboard my ship all the time," he says with a chuckle. Her mouth becomes agape. What did he mean by that?
She wanted to say something bit his stare made her weak, her brain entranced by his ability to engage her in mindless chatter. His sultry voice echoing throughout her head.

Callum's first finger and thumb locked onto her chin. Tilting her head up, her mouth grew wider in awe. A smirk overcame him when she shivered. Licking gia lips again, he leaned foreward and lowly began to speak.

"Keep that mouth open sweetheart, I got something you can put in it, if you'd like," he says.

Suddenly a voice roars in anger from across the room. A ringing sensation went over Clara, telling her to run but she only joltes in surprise as she saw the tall, large muscular redheaded man stalk towards them.

"Get away from her!" Flint yells.
Callum removes his hand then puts them up in a way of surrendering.

"Calm down, I was simply complimenting the woman," he says with another chuckle.