She kept steeling looks at him all night. There was something about him that made her curious. It could have been the stark contrast between his light, sandy hair and his tanned skin. He worked, obviously worked hard; not just because of his radiant skin tone, but the sculpted muscles she could see leaving small valleys of shadow and rounding off into lighter mounds where she knew chiseled flesh must lay. She didn't peg him for the fist-pumping, tanning bed type, so she assumed her assumptions where correct. As she followed the line of that one particular bicep his scruffy hair almost reached, she stopped for a moment to ponder the black swirling designs that jutted up past the sleeve of his tee. I wonder what it is, exactly. She thought to herself, allowing her slim pinky finger to round the ring of her wine glass.

"ALICE!" an impatient thumb and middle finger snapped her back to attention. "Jeze, air-head. You looked like you were having a paranormal episode or something!" Rose sounded annoyed, as usual for her.

"Sorry." She muttered. Bella smiled and gave her a look as if to say, ignore the bitch.

"We're taking off. I have to take Nessy to the doctor tomorrow and Rose is just above this place." She said mocking their friend. Rose made what was supposed to be an ugly face, but her angelic features betrayed her efforts.

"Um, yeah; sure. You guys go ahead. I'm gonna finish my glass and I'll be headed home too." The women exchanged good-byes and the two left. The pixiesque woman sat and put her glass of red wine to her lips; the dry bitter Sangiovese caressed her mouth but the tantalizing romance was gone. She thought for a second about whether or not to get something harder, a Jack & Coke, maybe. Fuck it, she mentally gave in, what the hell to I have to wake up to besides a cat and coffee?

As she turned to stand up from the little table at the window, she noticed him again. She felt nervous for no reason; like a girl in high school who had to walk by her crush to get to her locker. He had shifted. Now instead of propping himself up with his elbow making that gorgous bicep flex ever so slightly, he now loafed in his stool with his feet covering the one next to him. His legs were long, just as muscular as his torso judging by the way his jeans hugged his thighs. She took a deep breath and, with glass in hand, walked across the hardwood of the nearly empty bar. He noticed her briefly and moved his legs, still semi-facing the direction of the now empty seat.

She set her glass down as the bartender approached, "You want me to cap it off for you?" she asked a little confused with the half-full glass.

"No, I think I want something a bit harder. I'm in a whiskey mood all of a sudden."

"Get her some Jack." His voice was husky, deep with the hint of an accent that came from somewhere far away from Portsmouth. The bartender looked at her and she simply nodded. The man pulled out a seat and gestured for her to sit down. She did. She studied the tattoo again; more closely this time. It was a tribal; a pretty one. It swirled and ebbed neatly and beautifully. "Like what you see?" She jumped just a bit before meeting his honey brown eyes. She had half expected them to be blue, but the brown was warm, inviting and a little enchanting.

"It's … unique. I like it. I like it quite a bit." She mused. He half smiled out of the corner of his mouth. That started their conversation; little things at first, then a little more. Of course, it was accompanied by Jack, a little at first, then a little more.

She wasn't yet sure how exactly it had happened, but soon she was following this stranger across the street and down an ally. He lead the way to a flight of wooden steps that lead to his loft. What exactly was the reason they went there again? Oh, yes, the art piece he had done. Right?

He unlocked the door and stepped in, turning on a light and holding the door for her. She saw it as soon as she walked in. It was beautiful. Ornate, winding wire and steel, bound together in abstract bliss. She slipped off her shoes as he had done and was gravitated towards it. She studied it; the lines and angles somehow both sharp and soft at the same time. She felt his breath behind her. She wasn't nervous, as she should be, but instead oddly calm. "I … I'm not sure I have words for it yet."

"That makes two of us, miss. It's not finished yet. I'm stuck." He was close, very close. She should have felt uneasy about his proximity, but she felt the opposite. She felt hot. If she were being honest, maybe even a little wet. She turned around to say something, but he was gone. Across the room she heard the tink of glassware. "Are you still playing with Jack, or would you like only the coke, miss?"

"Water would be wonderful actually."

He turned on the tap and obliged her. Their hands brushed for a moment as he handed it to her. Absentmindedly, she pushed up the sleeve of his tee to reveal the tattoo. Just as ornate as the sculpture in the corner, just as mysterious.

"This is beautiful. What does it mean?" She mused, tracing it with her finger.

"I have more." He offered ignoring her question and speaking with more of a lush tone in his voice as he lifted up the black cotton. She was right about her first assumption that he was muscular. Who the hell was she kidding; boy was built and covered in ink. She studied him, his art, him as art. As an artist herself she could appreciate the work that went into something like this. His body was a masterpiece. At somepoint she had placed her small hand on his body, feeling, flowing, moving all around his chest and stomach, tracing images of swirls and animals and print. She looked at where her hand was; across the lettering between his hip-bones where his pants had sunk and definitely tightened. She was suddenly completely aware of the situation she had put herself in. She looked up as their eyes met again. There was a want in those honey brown eyes; a need. She felt it too. Her small nipples were tight as buttons, her cotton boy shorts wet. They both were filled with the need to be sated.

She moved her little hand a little bit lower, to the brass button of his jeans. She flicked it open with a fluid movement, still never breaking eye contact. He took the glass from her hand and put it on a table she hadn't noticed was there. She pulled down his zipper, carefully so she wouldn't catch skin. He took in a sharp hiss of air through his nose. Still making eye contact, she gently released his cock, hard and warm and throbbing between her little fingers. She played with the tip, gently circling the slit at the top. She felt a tiny dribble of liquid on her finger and swiped her thumb across the very tip to collect the precum that had gathered there. He cupped her face with both hands and brought it close to hisown. Silently, lightly, he traced the crease of her lips with his tongue, asking for entrance and she definitely complied. He tasted wonderful, spice from the whiskey and tobacco from the cigarette he had put out just before they entered the loft. She let go of his dick and tangled her fingers in his hair, soaking in the feeling of their tongues battling for dominancy. He released her face with one hand just to place it on the small of her back. His mouth nibbling, teasing and gently suckling her neck. She let out a light moan. His hand wandered a little bit lower, cupping her ass momentarily before lingering on the back of her thigh, then the front.

"May I?" he asked. Oooo that accent. Where the hell is that from? But that was a question she was unable to ask. She managed a staggered "Um-hmm" as his fingers, so strong and thick moved upwards to unbutton her jeans and slip a hand inside. She could feel him smile against her neck as he realized how wet she was. "My, oh, my." He teased. He began to make intricate little circles with his middle finger through the fabric over her opening, like a whirlpool in a river. Not to rough, but not gently either. She whimpered and he giggled, just a bit. "May I?" he asked again. This time she didn't get a chance to answer before he was tugging down her pants and panties. He sunk with them, kissing the top of each thigh, then gently picking her up and continuing their kiss.

She could feel his hot member against the blue cotton that shielded her moisture from him. He walked around to a big chair and sat down there. She caught her breath for a moment, only a moment. She pulled back and looked at him, his lips were swollen, his eyes wild. She stood up, pulled her panties down half way, slowly, very slowly. He went slack jaw, examining her smooth pussy; bald with a thin line of short curls showing she was most definitely a woman. She turned around and bend over to remove her underwear and tossed them in the general direction of where they had once stood. Before she could stand back up, his hands where on her hips, soft and firm, pleading for her to succumb to him.

"M-may – " she cut him off by positioning herself overtop of his cock and easily sliding onto it with the dripping juices from her slit. They groaned in pleasure. He began with his nipping and sucking on her neck, between her shoulder blades and moving his thumbs in circles on her hips, waiting for her to move. She started slowly bouncing lightly, up and down, up and down with each thrust moving his dick across the engorged and tremendously sensitive walls of her not-so-often-used sex. His tumb moved to rest on her clit, she yipped. Oh God, it felt so good. She moved faster, hotter, harder. He matched every thrust with one of his own. His touch on her clit got lighter all at once and she was in extocy! He chuckled a bit, pinning her hips hard against his with his wide hands as she rode out her first orgasm of the night, moaning sweet nothings.

He picked her up, still hooked to him. She wrapped her arms backwards around his neck, interlacing her own fingers as he nibbled her ear. He pressed her firmly against the wall, pinned her arms above her head and took her with much, much more force until she screamed. He flipped her over, facing him and put her legs on his shoulders to suspend her as he held her ass in one hand, the other on her left breast while he nibbled and teased the other rock hard nipple. Shock waves of pleasure shot up and down her spine. Somehow she was able to ask him to cum with her, he answered with a kiss and moved his free hand from her now swollen nip to her clit and teased and plucked and flicked it. She was on the virge of euphoria!

"Jasper!" was the only word that crept from her mouth as the first wave hit her senses, followed by his and a few more of hers.

The next morning, she awoke, wearing a black cotton tee, curled up in somebody's lap. She looked up and it was Jasper. She laid her head back down for just a moment.

"Good morning." He said quietly. She just looked up and smiled. He kissed her forehead. "Hate to make you move, darling, but I gotta piss." She giggled and jumped off his lap. She replayed the events from last night. Boy would Rose be on her ass now.

"Are you a breakfast kind of gal?" He asked drying his hands as he was coming from the bathroom, clad only in a pair of boxers he must have grabbed on his way in.

"I … um … I …" Just then his phone rang.

"Hold that thought. Major Witlock." His tone was suddenly serious. Major? HE was a Major? "Good morning, Sir. Yes, Sir. About an hour, Sir." He hung up the phone and set it on the counter. He came back over to the chair with a glass of water. "I have to run. You are welcome to stay here, or you are welcome to leave and never have me bug you again, miss. If you choose to stay, I will be back within a few hours' time." He kissed her fore head again, grabbed another black tee from a drawer and pulled on the jeans from last night and slipped on his boots. He grabbed the key off hook on the wall and said, "Hope to see you in a few hours, Miss. Alice." as he walked out the door.

Alice had finished her water, picked up a tiny bit and found a piece of paper and a pen.

I had to go feed my cat and check some stuff back at my house. I think I need to sleep off our good friend Jack today, but I will be back at the bar on Monday at 7 if you would like to meet me for a drink.

- Alice

P.S. If you want my number, you better be there.