Chapter One- Play

Sweat trailed down the side of her temple. Originating from her hairline, trailing down her neck, between her breasts. She huffed, giving out a heavy sigh, as she pinched the neckline of her tank top, airing herself out. The keys jingled in her hand, as she inserted one into the door keyhole, turning to lock. She walked out from under the roof of the porch, striding out into the blazing, hot sun, jumping into her jeep. The engine revved as she started up her vehicle, backing away from the empty parking lot, and speeding down the road. She coughs into her hand, feeling the phlegm disperse from the back of her throat. She pulls into the parking lot of the solitude bar/diner named "Luna Mesa".

Naomi Barrera craned her neck to the side, feeling her muscles stretch, and relax as she righted herself, hopping off her vehicle. Her legs automatically moved towards the old building, up the stairs, like she had been all her life. She pushed the door open, breathing in deeply. Inhaling the musky smell that resonated from the wooden architecture, followed by the sweet, cancerous smell of smoke that filled the room. She smiled slightly to herself, watching the old man, behind the bar, she grew up knowing.

"Hey there darlin'," Walter smiled from behind the counter.

"Hi Walter," I coughed, taking a seat.

"That cough is getting nastier, baby girl," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

I chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Been busting my ass off. Haven't taken a break,"

"Hard worker. Just like your papa," he chuckled.

I smiled, "You think I can get one of your famous soups Walter. Please?" I smiled widely, batting my eyelashes jokingly.

He nodded, "Comin' right up," He walked away, heading to the back of the kitchen.

I giggled, spinning in my seat, wiggling around to the music.

She stops moving, sits still, picking napkins from the holder from the edge of the bar. She lays them out across the counter, ripping pieces up and placing them anonymously out in front of her.

The screen door behind her creaked open, slamming only seconds after.

"Well, look who it is. Sweet little Bon Bon," a deep chuckle resonated behind her.

I sighed, rolling my eyes, slowly turning in my chair. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not a fucking marshmallow, Mac," I sneered, facing him.

He stood there. Wearing his overalls, splattered in grease and dirt. His light, brown hair, dark from the grime, and stuck to his face from the sweat. A smirk obviously displayed, across his face.

"Why are you here so early?" he strutted towards me.

" Got off early," I shrugged.

"What, no snotty little rug rats need dancing lessons?" he chuckled, "No slut bitch want teachings on dancing?" he stood beside me.

"I don't give lessons to stripper bitches Mac. You know that," I chewed on my lip.

His eyes glanced over me, "That's a shame," he muttered, "they could learn a thing or two from you," his voice husky, as his eyes met mine.

"They wouldn't be able to handle moves like mine," I smirked.

He grinned, "No...no they can't," he pressed up against me, knocking me off my seat, pressing me against the counter. His hands slapped against my thigh, roughly digging his fingers tips, running them up my thigh. His face pressed against mine, inhaling deeply. His hips ground against me. The hem of my skirt bunched in his fists. His other hand smack against my ass, squeezing it and rubbing it roughly. I hissed, turning my head slightly to the side, semi facing him. I unconsciously rolled my ass back against his grinding hips, feeling him poke against me. I licked my bottom lip lightly.

"Damn, girl! When ya' gonna let me get to that ass Bee Bee?" he growled.

I gave out a sound between a chuckle and a giggle, "When you get the right set of tools, Mac," I gritted, feeling his thick fingers knead my skin.

He bumped his hips against my ass, hard, pinning me harder against the counter. "What makes you think I ain't got em'?" his hands began to lift my skirt.

I reached down, trying to pry them off. "Mac, stop," I chuckled, hoping the situation was a joke.

His grip became rougher. I twisted in his arms as he growled in my ear. I grabbed at his shoulder, attempting to put distance between us. "Mac! Stop it!" I exhaled sharply. His hands just gripping at me tighter, pulling me, more, against him.

There was a loud bang that came from behind her.

"Mac, you best let her go son," Walter warned in a cold whisper.

Mac stared the man down. His jaw clenched and demeanor tensed. He slowly let his hands drop from her hips and she turned, sighing deeply, and resonating to her seat.

Walter remained contact with Mac, as Naomi took the bowl of warm soup, placed it in front of her, giving her silent thanks.

Mac walked down a few stools, angrily plopping himself down. Reaching over the bar, he grabs for the bottle of Jack and a glass, aimlessly pouring himself a shot.

"You shouldn't encourage him like that," Walter began, "You and I both know how he is. He doesn't take lightly to games like that Naomi," he disciplined, his thick accent, spilling with frustration.

I looked down, spinning my spoon around the bowl, slowly stirring the soup. "I'm sorry Walt," I pouted, not really having an excuse to give.

He sighed and nodded, "Eat your soup, dulcé," he tapped his knuckle on the wooden counter, before turning and walking away.

A small smile appeared on her lips, quickly disappearing behind her long, chocolate, curly hair.

"You shouldn't add fuel to a fire you want tamed little girl," Mac growled from down the bar.

Naomi looked at Mac, glaring at him as she licked the yummy liquid off of her spoon. "You shouldn't start things you won't be able to finish," she smirked.

"That old bastard wouldn't have interfered," he growled, "I would have," he slowly turned to look at her, full body. He stood, placing his hand on his crotch, lightly tugging the painful discomfort. He slowly walked towards her, his body just flowed. As he stepped closer, she tensed, her fingers gripping onto her spoon.

"Mac?" she croaked, trying to make it sound like a warning.

He stepped closer to her. His body filled with ownership of his surroundings. He inhaled, stopping only a foot away. Leaning forward, he locked gazes with her.

She swallowed forcefully. Her eyes couldn't stop but roam his firm, dirty body, before looking back at his eyes.

"This isn't over," he whispered sinisterly. He stood straight, reaching over to the full bowl of peanuts, grabbing a few and popping them into his mouth. "Don't taunt a dog that can bite," his tongue jutted out, licking his bottom lip before biting it. His eyes fixed on her backside. Naomi released a shaky breathe, as she watched Mac back away and turn around towards the pool table.

Throughout the evening, she eyed him. As he played with his "group", she wouldn't really consider them his friends. Mac wasn't a friends kind of guy, but they surrounded him either way. She saw as the woman of the town flaunted themselves at him and he did not deny. This made Naomi angry. She clenched at her glass, as she chewed on her mixer straw. She looked away, noticing he wanted her to notice the amount of woman he was surrounded by.

Everyone knew Mac by reputation, but the bitches of town didn't quite care. They knew a hot piece when they saw one and even though Mac treated them like whores, they still came back.

Naomi was just about ready to leave, when the door behind her opened, sending in a crowd of young college kids. She stood, attempting to head out, but accidentally ran into one of the frat boys.

"Whoa, hey," he chuckled, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Naomi gave a small smile, "Sorry."

"It's OK," he replied.

She aimed to continue her exit, but the boy insisted on more word exchange.

"Are you from here?" he asked.

Naomi cleared her throat, avoiding eye contact, "Yea, I grew up here."

"Wow, cool. You seem to be the only pretty girl I've seen here in all day," he smirked.

That caught her attention and not in a good way. Her eyes immediately locked on him, her brow raised, "Is that suppose to woo me somehow?" she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't know, is it working?" his eyes gleamed.

She tried to fight the smile that wanted to break across her face, she looked away and grinned. Unintentionally, her eyes skimmed towards the pool area, and they immediately fell on Mac. He was leaning against the wall, his hand firmly gripped on the pool stick, while his other arm hung loosely over the other. His face displayed a murderous glare, directed right...at...her.

Naomi turned away, tired of the sexual frustration Mac bestowed upon her. "You want to get out of here?" she asked frat boy.

He grinned widely, "Y...yea lead the way," he stuttered in excitement.

Naomi stepped around him, heading towards the door, unaware that Mac was changing his position. Frat boy followed her out the bar.

Still in the bar, Walter shook his head, "Esa niña esta convocando al mismisimo diablo," he muttered, as he wiped down the bar, seeing the monster exit to stalk his prey.