My new Taylor fic lies before you. I hope you enjoy it, and please tell me what you think!

I was actually looking for the hostess of the party. I was ready to leave; these LA parties had never really appealed to me. The only reason I'd come in the first place was that Austin had been bugging me about it for a long time. The life of the rich celebrities in the city seemed to have a magnetic pull for him. I would have to drag him away from those girls in the corner; he seemed to be having way too much fun. I smiled to myself and looked around. The hostess was occupied with some other guests, laughing and dancing. It was obviously going to be a while before I could leave. I couldn't just walk out. I sighed and walked toward the drinks. I took another champagne.

That's when I saw him.

He was standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall. He seemed to be alone. His hair was short and black, his skin a light bronze. His suit was clearly expensive, but he was wearing it nonchalantly, with his sleeves casually rolled up. He wasn't wearing his jacket; it was tucked over the arm rest of the chair next to him. His tie was flawlessly tied and his stubble beard was professionally trimmed. His dark brown eyes were fixed on me, watching me with an expression of curiosity and anticipation. He started walking towards me in a casual manner. His eyes were still locked on mine. It left me breathless. I felt the glass of champagne slip through my fingers, but I couldn't move. And then he was suddenly next to me, taking the glass as it was about to fall.
"Let me help you," he said with the hint of a smile. His voice sounded deep and warm, with traces of a European accent I didn't immediately recognise. He offered me the glass and I automatically took it.
"Are you sure you want that? It's not very good champagne, actually." He whispered the last statement with a dazzling smile, leaning closer to me so I could understand.
I couldn't quite seem to find my voice. "Well, I-"
"Never mind," he laughed. "One can't appreciate the good without tasting drinks like this." He took a glass of his own and took a sip. He made a face when he swallowed it.
I was still staring at him. I blinked and tried to compose myself.
"Well, in that case, thanks for saving it," I said as charmingly as I could. He laughed.
"I should introduce myself. My name is Lucio."
"I'm Taylor."
He looked around the room, his dark eyes curiously scanning the people at the party.
"Did you come alone?" He casually looked back to me.
"No," I replied, feeling nervous under his intense gaze. "I came here with my brother."
"Ah," he said softly and he easily spotted Austin in the corner, resting his eyes on him for a few seconds. Then he looked back to me, with the smile in his eyes again.
I decided to make small talk.
"Do you often go to parties like this?" I asked.
"Well, when I'm in LA, sometimes I do. I decline most invitations. Usually I don't feel like faking an interest for cheap champagne." He smiled at his own joke. "You?" He took another sip from his drink. I wondered what kind of invitations he usually got. I didn't recognise him as a member of the LA scene. But then again I didn't spend much time in it, so I didn't know all the faces.
"Not really. I'm only here because my brother wanted to go." I was also scanning the room, trying to see if he'd come alone. It was difficult to keep my eyes off his face for long. It was like a gravitational force.
"Did you want to leave?" He asked, misinterpreting my attitude.
"No," I said quickly. I suddenly didn't feel the need to go anymore.
"I could drive you home if you want to leave earlier than your brother," he offered.
I arranged my thoughts, slightly baffled. No one had ever offered to give me a lift quite this soon after meeting me. 'You shouldn't accept it', a voice in my head whispered. Of course I shouldn't. I just met this guy.
But I wanted to.

'Just go with him', a different voice in my head whispered. 'You never do anything like this. Just this once, do what you want.' I hesitated. This was stupid.
"Sure, that's very kind of you," I heard myself say.
What? What did I just tell him?
"All right then," he said and he gave me another brilliant smile. I suddenly couldn't remember the objections my conscience had made. Why not go with him? He was obviously a nice man.
"I'm ready when you are," he said.
Was he in such a hurry too? Well, I didn't feel like staying if he, the only interesting person here, was leaving anyway. I decided I would text Austin that I was leaving with someone I knew; I didn't want to drag him out of his favourite corner. And I certainly didn't want him to be worried.
After I'd done that, I looked at Lucio and smiled.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yes," I said and we walked toward the exit. Then I remembered the hostess.
"Shouldn't we-"
"No, she won't mind if we leave without saying goodbye. She's way too busy with her friends over there," he sneered. I was paying more attention to his voice than to what he said. It was warm, yet with a cold edge that snuck in sometimes, and his accent made his sentences more melodic. He also spoke with a sense of authority; everything about him seemed to exude power, even though his attitude was nonchalant. I had to admit it to myself - it was extremely attractive.
I followed him to the wardrobe, and he took my coat and held it out for me. I put my arms in and he helped me into it, as I wondered how he knew that it was mine.
He held the door open for me like a gentleman, and I walked out into the cold. I shivered; I should've brought a scarf or something. He wasn't wearing a coat, and yet he didn't even blink when we walked outside. His jacket was tucked over his arm.
"Don't worry, my car is not too far away," he assured me, while linking his other arm with mine. I was surprised by this subtle gesture; it felt protective. I'd never felt this way with someone I'd just met; adrenaline was pumping through my veins and yet I felt safe and secure.
We reached his car, a black, expensive-looking Mercedes, and he opened the passenger door for me.
It smelled like expensive leather inside. He got into the car, threw his jacket in the back seat and I heard the soft purr of the engine. He drove away and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
Just as I was expecting him to ask for directions to my house, he asked: "Do you mind if we stop by my apartment first?"
Immediately, all the alarm bells in my mind went off. This was everything my mother had warned me against. They get you into their car, lure you to their home and then...
I needed to get out. Right now. If I asked him to pull over, maybe he would and I could escape. As soon as I could get out of the car, people would be able to hear me scream.
So why wasn't I moving? Why wasn't I asking him to stop?
"Taylor?" He glanced at me.
The sense of safety his presence provided was enough to drown out my screaming conscience. I wanted to go with him.
"Yes, that's okay," I replied, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

We were there in less than five minutes. The apartment building was big, but not as fancy as I'd expected. The outside looked like it wasn't being taken good care of. The windows I could see were simple and dirty.

As soon as we got to his front door, I could see that I'd been mistaken. In contrast to the rest of the building, his door was impeccably clean and made out of dark ebony. He opened it and led me through the doorway.
Inside, the light was already on. The golden light gave the room a warm atmosphere – which it didn't need to look stunning. The couches were covered with beige leather. The tables and chairs were made of the most valuable wood. The Persian rugs looked so soft I wanted to take my shoes off and walk across them barefoot. The walls were painted dark red and the ceiling was covered in gold figures. I looked around in awe. Even in the wealthiest neighbourhoods I'd never seen anything like this. He noticed my wonder.
"It's not much, but it's home," he said with a smile.
I laughed and looked at him. He was suddenly standing much closer than I'd thought. I felt his hand on my waist. I froze. He softly touched my face and pressed me to the wall. I could hear my heartbeat speeding and my breath coming in uneven gasps. He brought his face to my collarbone.
"Taylor," he whispered, and I could feel his warm breath against my neck. He pressed his lips to my skin, moving upwards with gentle kisses until he reached my mouth. I saw his dark eyes burning with passion. Then he pressed his lips to my mouth, drowning me in darkness.