She sat there, just watching him from across the hotel room. He sat comfortably in a chair, the lights of the room dimmed down but still she could see his outline, his perfectly messy hair and those beautiful hazel eyes.
Her cigarette, lit long ago but yet to be smoked from, burned lightly in her left hand, she glanced from him to her cigarette and watched the smoke swirl up into the air and disappear. The stupid thing needed to be ashed long before, but she found it impossible to move her hand to do so-she felt so uncomfortable with him sitting there, just a couple feet from her.
How could he do this to her? How dare he?
She hardly knew this guy she'd met randomly at Toronto's club Elevate, that let club-goers younger than 21 in on weekends. He was sexy in a bad boy way. He didn't have that cocky tilt to the head most guys had when they knew they had killer looks, but by the way he held himself she knew he was aware of his sex appeal.
She glanced at the ashes gathering around the end of the bed from her cigarette. She felt him near her before she saw him, she was afraid to look up into his eyes, afraid if she did, she wouldn't turn away-scared she would give herself to him right then and there.
He sat down easily on the hotel bed, his hand resting on her bare leg. He smirked at her as she slowly grazed upon his eyes. He took her cigarette; ashed it for her, smoothly put it in his mouth and inhaled. He exhaled the smoke in her face, teasing her to do something.
She inhaled second hand smoke, taking the cigarette out of his hands. Oh-how she wanted those hands to want her. He leaned into her and brushed his warm lips across her ear.
"Afraid of me?" he whispered.
His voice sent shivers down her spine. A feeling that shocked her. Never had a guy affected her this way.
Using his long slender fingers, he lifted her chin towards his face and bent slowly down, his hot breath tingled on her face, in such a teasing way; inches from her lips. He acted like he was about to kiss her so softly and gently but at the last second, pulled away.
"I'm not," She managed to say. He titled his head to the side in a questioning way.
Without warning, he grabbed her sides. He pulled her onto him, causing her mini skirt to ride up her thighs. He laughed, his laugh, sexy and deep. He lifted the front part of her skirt enough to glance at her panties.
"Pretty pink ones,"
She managed to crack a smile, even though she was trembling inside.
She decided to give him a little taste of his own medicine. How dare he tease her like that.
She leaned in and whispered across his earlobe, "Too bad you won't know what they look like on your bedroom floor," She watched his facial expression. He looked amused, his eyebrow slightly raised.
"I won't, huh?" He let his hands wonder down her back, slightly massaging her back muscles. She rested her forehead on his shoulder as she felt him bring her body closer to his.
"I barely know you," she told him.
His lips brushed her cheek and she listened to him loudly inhale. She glanced down at the cigarette she dropped on the floor. Somebody needed to put that thing out.
He talked while his lips lingered across her cheek.
"That hasn't stopped you before," he told her knowingly. "What makes me so different?"
Let me think. The fact your hot as hell and you could have any girl you wanted in this whole damn city and you picked me. She felt his hands rest on her lower back.
"Don't be afraid of me, you trust me right?" he asked.
Did she trust him? How can you trust someone you just met 2 hours ago?
-Flashback-
"Hey, wanna dance?"
Summer Crestfield turned to the source of the voice. There, she was greeted with a fair-skinned and slender guy with beautiful hazel eyes, and even greater smile with a head of amusing hair. He was dressed in a black wife beater that hugged his upper muscles, the kind you get from hard labor not from the gym. He was muscular; but not overly. His jeans were ripped and torn, leaving little to the imagination of what he was packing behind the material.
She set her drink down and flashed him her best smile.
"Show me a good time," she told him as he grabbed her hand and led her to the floor filled with sweaty bodies and an intoxicating beat.
The way the boy moved she could tell he knew what he was doing. Suddenly at that moment she wondered how he moved in the bedroom. He moved without a thought to his next move, as if his body just knew what it was doing. As if he was born dancing or used the motto "Why walk when you can dance?"
Summer lifted her hands above her head, moving her hips to the deep beats of the song the DJ was playing. It looked like she wanted to snap her fingers, but she never did. She never looked at him in the eyes, afraid dirty thoughts would race across her mind from the sexual tension oozing from him.
God, he's hot. She thought as he wrapped his long arms around her waist.
He lifted her head so she could meet his graze. He was smiling at her like she was the only girl in the room.
"Got a name to go with those moves, baby?" he asked, smirking.
Even though his comment was lame, the sound of his voice was sexy.
"Summer, yours?" She wanted to smack herself. She should have given him a fake name. She always did before. What kind of affect did this guy have on her? She wondered.
"Munro, Munro Chambers."
