Whispered Desires

Chapter 3: The Leech

Kilian

Mitchell Fucking Brown.

Of course, that sly motherfucker had to be here. 

I despise Chicago, always have. The reason for that is not only the distinct smell of fast food and the amount of sketchy looking fellas behind every corner, but it's also the existence of this dumb fuck of a tennis player who moved his permanent residency here, and for some reason always manages to show up wherever I go. I swear he's a fucking leech, once you met him you won't get rid of him until he sucked every inch of happiness out of your soul.

And so, after I decide to reward myself with a drink after this fucking disaster of a flight, I really am not too pleased when I clock that son of a bitch sitting at a high table with a Barbie-looking girl by his side. 

"Fucking great..." I mutter to myself before grabbing the drink from the male bartender, who eyes me up and down, obviously seeing something of interest in me. It's not the first time this happens, but I decide to put an end to it before he gets the wrong idea. Don't get me wrong - I'm all homo and shit, but it's just not my team, you know. "Sorry, dude. I mean, you're pretty attractive and all, but I don't really do... Sausage." I twirl my finger around him, trying to make him understand.

The guy looks completely flustered, stammering something beneath his breath, and I'm almost about to leave the bar to go deal with the leech on the other side of the room, but then I hear him speak to me again.

"I, uh... I'm not gay. You just..."

"I just what?!" I kind of snap back at him, suddenly feeling slightly irritated, Tennis Kid over there has me on edge already.

"I was just wondering if I knew you from somewhere. Do you work with Mr. Brown?"

Oh, that motherfucker...

Without giving the guy another second glance, not wanting to punch him straight in the face, I make my way over to my nemesis, the sudden urge to pester him rising within me.

Unsurprisingly the blonde is the first one to notice, dickhead over here probably mentally jerks off to a picture of himself.

"Well hello there, sweetheart." I go with my smoothest voice as I place my elbow on the table, purposely blocking out the Ken doll behind me. 

"Hello... Oh! You're Kilian Rogers, right?" The blonde, which I will call Heidi for now, suddenly registers my face and immediately starts twirling her fingers in her hair. 

That's how it's supposed to go...

"The one and only." I shoot her a wink as I sip my scotch, resting my arm on the back of her chair and oh so gently tracing my thumb over her back. Accidentally, of course.

"What a pleasure to meet you in person. I always loved watching you on the field." She licks her lips before she sucks on the straw of her cocktail, making sure to keep eye contact with me the whole time.

"Is that so?" 

She nods her head in agreement, letting the straw slip out between her lips before she speaks again.

"Yeah, it is... I like your moves." I notice how she eyes me up and down, this time in a much more appreciated manner than the barkeeper from before. 

She sits up straight, making sure to display her boobs as good as she can - not that I mind - and I can't help but lean in when I see the way she undresses me with her eyes.