Valgarv slurped his beer, staring at the young lady in a corner. She
didn't look like the normal kind of woman who went to the Dragon Slave
Club. Nope. Instead of tight jeans or a short skirt, she wore a short sleeved
turtle necked shirt with a long skirt. Her dark black hair was slightly
curled at the tip and she wore a white headband. Even from his distance,
her skin
looked as fine as porcelain.
He smirked a bit. Too fragile for his taste. A century ago she would be wearing a hoop skirt and toting a parasol around her daddy's plantation. Maybe that's why the beer bottle she sipped looked out of place.Sitting on a stool in a dark corner, she placed her beer bottle down next to two others, looking like she hoped they would provide some answers.
He could have told her beer didn't make much sense when talked to, but
it wasn't a damn bit of his business. Although the air of sadness clung
to her, she was easy on the eyes. Her outfit didn't cover up the curves
around her
hips and breasts. Some men would view her feminine reticence as a challenge.
Sure he was
curious, but not curious enough to do something about it.
She wouldn't need to leave alone. He might have seen her first but there were others looking at her. After a moment, a guy pushed his way through the crowd to her table. She politely shook her head to him and he moved on. Another one showed up no less than two minutes later, repeating the same episode with the first.
She got up, waved to another woman there and went outside. When she walked past Valgarv, he noticed her vanilla scent, moving along with the air around her. It was easy to pick up since it was different from the beer and designer colognes that filled the club. Assuming she left, Val shrugged an approval. She didn't belong there. He looked over to the door she left out of and sure enough he saw her pacing in the front entrance. The second man who approached her earlier must have noticed too since he swaggered his way to her.
Valgarv deliberately took a sip of his beer and turned his attention to the crowd. IT wasn't his style. He didn't moonlight as a dancer, tossing troublemakers from bars anymore. He didn't need to. Nowadays, he had the headaches and joys associated with owning a busy foreign car dealership.Despite the loud noise, he could hear the two voices from outside.
"Come on baby… dance with me." The second man slurred.
"No thanks. I just need some air." Her voice was soft like cashmere.
"Let me buy you a beer."
"I've had enough, thank you."
"If you want it quiet. I could take you somewhere else."
"No really I-."
"C'mon… you look like you could use a fix. And I'm the man for it." The second man pouted slightly.
Val set his beer down and let out a long sigh as he stepped outside. The second man kept selling, but Val looked right past the guy's shoulder into the eyes of the amateur girl. Wide, blue and weary, her eyes met his and he felt something rumble inside of him like his Harley.
Sensing Val's presence, the second guy turned to him. "You want something."
He asked roughly.
"Just air." Valgarv answered.
"Do you have to get it here?"
"This is no better than anywhere else." Val said comically.
"Well could you wait. We are having a private discus-."
"Am I interrupting something?" Val cut in, direction his question to
the
lady.
She glanced at him carefully. Valgarv waited with a slight smile, knowing his appearance didn't exactly gain people trust. He'd been told his hair was too long. He wore two earrings in the left ear and he knew his dragon tattoo didn't influence anyone.
She looked like the type to faint, but instead she shook her head. "No.. you're not interrupting at all."
The second man sighed and muttered. "Your loss." Before walking off.
The girl sighed in relief when he walked off.
"Why don't you go home?" Val asked.
She hesitated, then leaned against the building and answered. "I came with a friend from work and I don't want to interrupt her fun." She smiled slightly. "She had good intentions in inviting me."
"You don't belong here." He said.
She laughed a self-deprecating laugh. "No.. not even after three beers." She put a hand to her forehead. "That was a mistake."
"Sick?"
"Not quite. That's why I came out here."
"Wanna take a walk somewhere? There's a quiet neighborhood a couple streets over." He suggested. For some strange reason he felt connected to her. Maybe it was because he didn't belong at the Dragon Slave Club anymore either.
"I probably shouldn't. Lina might wonder if I'm gone too long." She said, meeting his gaze.
"I couldn't offer you a ride home unless you want to ride my Harley." He said shrugging.
She glanced at her skirt. "I'm not dressed for it." She replied.
'She doesn't look like she ever is dressed for it.' He thought silently.
She cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "I've never ridden a motorcycle."
Valgarv was amused. She whispered the fact as is she was telling him her measurements. He looked her over again. He could probably guess them anyway. Perhaps it was good she wore a long flowing skirt or she could cause lots of trouble.
"You want to look at it? My motorcycle? Looking won't hurt."
She nodded, following him towards the Harley. "What are you doing here
tonight?"
"Bored. I've been doing long hours at work lately. I usually take care of my nephew, but my sister and her husband took him out of town this weekend." He would pull his teeth before he admitted to his sister, Filia, that he resented not having her son to entertain him. Geesh.. he needed to get out more.
"How old is your nephew?" She asked curiously.
"Loki's four."
"Loki? As in the Norse God?"
"Yep. He's a handful too." He stepped in front of his bike. "Here she is."
"Big, black and I'll bet loud."
He nodded and glanced at her. "I'm Valgarv.
"Sylphiel Rhada."
"You're not from here are you?"
"I'm from Sairaag. I've been told I have an accent plenty of times." She answered. "It's a nice bike." She said.
He saw her wary fascination. "You could touch it. It won't bite.
She glanced sideways at him. "Is that what they all say?"
"A gentle joke… almost flirting. He suspected it was rare, coming from her.
"How long have you owned it?" She asked.
"This one two years. I've had one since I got my license though."
"Wow… you never drive a car?"
"I finally bought one, though I don't use it."
"What about when it rains."
"I get a raincoat or I get wet."
"And snow?"
"That's a little tricky." He conceded with a grin.
"Would you mind starting it?" She asked softly, running her hand over the seat.
It sounded a bit sexual to him. "Sure." He pulled out his key and leaned over at started the motorcycle.
"Wow… it's loud." She said. "Does it jiggle when you're riding it?"
"Nope. You could sit on it if you want."
"You sure it's OK?" She looked wistful.
"Yeah." Sylphiel timidly slid onto the bike, frowning at first then smiled. A little smile.
"Wanna go for a ride?" Valgarv leaned on the bike.
"I really don't think I should do that." Sylphiel answered, hopping off the bike.
"Just around the parking lot and the building." Valgarv coaxed. The girl was so innocent, that he was amused. He wondered if she would except his offer.
Sylphiel studied his face. Normally she could tell a good guy aside from a bad guy, but this guy left her a bit confused. She nodded slowly.
"OK. But the parking lot and the building only." She answered.
He hopped in the front and motioned for her to get on. She looked at it warily, then slightly hiked her skirts to get on the bike. Valgarv looked back with a smirk. She hiked her skirt less than a normal guy would like. She slid on her helmet, while he slid on his. She held on tightly to his chest without realizing it.
"You aren't going to fall." He laughed before taking off. She didn't listen to what he said and held on tightly anyway.
Val grinned to himself. An image popped in his head of Sylphiel on him, taking a different ride than this one. She would be stark naked, her eyes filled with adventure. Her breast would be sliding agaisn't his chest while he directed her hips towards his.
Groaning, he sucked in a deep breath and gave the delicate girl what she wanted, a nice slow ride. After they went around the whole place two times, Val stopped. She loosened her hold on him.
"Wow… I could get hooked on that." Sylphiel said softly. Her skirt was gathered modestly around her knees.
"I could still kidnap you and take you home." Valgarv offered again.
Her eyes widened. "Oh Ceipheed… I must be crazy." She breathed.
"Why is that? He questioned. He already knew why. Her eyes were filled with longing.
"Because I'm considering it." She stated.
"You could go inside and tell your friend. Tell her my name. Valgarv Ul Copt." He drove towards the door. He reached over and took off her helmet.
He resisted the urge to touch her hair. It was mussed in a sexy kind of a way, the moonlight shining on it. He helped her off the bike. "Are you sure you want to go?" He asked.
She, again, studied his face. "No but you're not like the other guys in there." Sylphiel then walked back into the club, to go to Lina.
He could have been like the other guys. He saw how fragile she was and held back. She rushed back out, her arm extending to her helmet.
"Talk to your friend?" He asked.
"Yes. Can we go now?" She had been rushing, hoping she wouldn't change her mind.
Valgarv nodded with a grin. After she gave him directions they were off. About twenty minutes later they arrived at her house, no cuts or bruises. Sylphiel hopped off of the bike, shaking her hair into place and placing the helmet back.
"Thanks. I really appreciated it." She smiled sweetly as he took off his helmet.
"My pleasure." Val smiled back, not sure what to say to her.
"Come kidnap me again, ok?" She said, leaning up to kiss him on the
cheek before hurrying inside her house.