Chapter 1: 11/7/15

Bo's arcade wasn't my usual hangout. Though I've been inside it once or twice. But don't let the word 'arcade' in its name fool you, this place wasn't for kids. Recently renovated is sought to compete with a bunch of new restaurants and bars that had opened in downtown Coldwater or Harrisburg. Though the clean, modern, contemporary theme was nice and the drinks were cheap enough the arcade was too far off the major highway to really compete. What it did have that newer bars didn't was a reputation for housing the supernatural. Even though most fallen angels were chained in hell and almost all nephilim of Coldwater wiped out Angels still fall everyday. And procreate with humans every hour. It's like a ongoing machine that never stops.

Scanning the crowd I weaved my way through the maze of pool tables toward the bar. This level of the arcade was filled literally with people I did not know. So far I hadn't seen him. I checked my watch, 9:45pm. He's still got time. I took a seat at the bar, the slit of my skirt rode up a little.

"Cherry coke," I told the bartender who acknowledged me with a nod. After a few moments of hustle and bustle she placed a can in front of me.

Compared to the other women in the arcade I was dressed conservatively. My form fitting long white skirt had a slit that was cut fashionably mid-thigh. My cropped long sleeve top matched the skirt and I finished off the look with ankle high cross gartered stiletto heels. In the sea of low riding jeans, spaghetti strapped cleavage baring tee shirts and hooker boots, I stood out just the way I wanted to. I sipped at my drink and looked around. Ugh, how long am I going to be alone? Apparently not long.

The seat next to mine had been empty when I sat. But now a man took it Unfortunately it was the wrong one. The guy had blonde hair and a gap between his two front teeth. He also couldn't take a hint.

"No thanks," I said when he offered me a drink.

"I'm waiting for my husband," I said when he offered again.

"You're not waiting for your husband. You're just saying that, c'mon let me buy you a drink," he said this with unshakeable confidence.

"I have a-"

"Are you hitting on my date?" A familiar voice said from behind me. I inwardly sighed with relief. Blondie and I both turned around with jaws dropped. I'm pretty sure we each had different reasons. His was probably at surprise that he was wrong mine was in delight. I slowly took in each feature of this man next to me. The black hair, the dark eyes, the white tee shirt and leather jacket over it, the dark jeans that were worn in all the right places. I was seated in a high bar stool and he still towered over me at 6'2. Very very sexy. Patch flicked his wrist at blondie as if he was trying to brush him off.

"Go on now, before I knock every single one of those yellow teeth down your throat," Patch said menacingly. To his credit, blondie didn't try to make excuses. He just got off the stool awkwardly with both hands in the air.

"Sorry man you can't blame for trying can you?" Patch didn't answer. His black eye gazed and roamed of every inch of my body before he answered to me in mind speak.

"No I don't think I can," he said taking the now vacated seat.

"My Angel, what are you drinking?" He said with a sly grin. I held up my glass and told him what it was. He signaled to the bartender and ordered two glasses of hard whiskey, Jack Daniels. His favorite. When the bartender put the two drinks down Patch without hesitation grabbed a glass and eagerly gulped until there wasn't any left. I however scowled at the glass in front of me, I could smell the strength of the dark Amber liquid from a mile away.

"Drink up angel. It'll put hair on you chest," he said teasingly. I made eye contact with him. Was he serious?

"Uh huh. Does it look like I want hair on my chest?" It was supposed to be a rhetorical question. But Patch blatantly stared at my breasts.

"Without seeing the chest in question I'm afraid I can't say," he said and I laughed.

"Riiiiiight. Try again," I said. He signaled to the bartender for two more cups of whiskey.

"For when you're done with that one," he explained.

"Patch! I can't," I whined. He tipped back his second glass and pulled another toward him.

"Are you a nun?" He asked without faltering.

"No," I said crossing my arms. He paused waiting for me to say more but I didn't. He drank and swallowed. I watched him without speaking and drank from my own girly drink wondering how he could take such a strong substance and it not affect him.

"So you didn't call me here so we could drink together then?" He eyed me and turned in his stool so that our legs touched. There was a sense of challenge in his tone.

"Not really, no," I said smiling and pushing the final glass of whiskey toward him. He fixed me with an intense gaze and a grin appeared on his face slowly that sent a heat seeking missile straight between my thighs. Patch with his drink finished in record time leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"You're very beautiful." His lips tickled the sensitive skin of my neck just below my lobe. Already primed by the time I've been anticipating this moment my body reacted instantly. I squeezed my legs together. I leaned in closer too he smelled a little like mint, a little like whisky, and a whole lot like yum. I wanted to lick him.

"I'm ready," I whispered to him and we each leaned back into our stools. Smiling I crossed my legs and watched his gaze followed the hem of the slit of my skirt as it gave him a glimpse of what I had on underneath. His eyes widened in silent appreciation. His tongue slid along his bottom lip leaving it glistening. He finally looked into my eyes.

"I don't suppose you have to go back to the farmhouse tonight," he said in a low breathy tone. I shook my head. With that Patch paid the bill and left a tip big enough to make the bartender grin. Then he took my hand and helped me down from the stool. Holding me steady when my foot came down wrong as if he'd known all along that I'd stumble. I tipped my head back and he shrugged.

"What can I say I'm a gentleman," he said. He stood head and shoulders over most of the crowd which has grown considerably since I came in. He led me without faltering through the tables and bodies toward the stairs and out the front doors.

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