A/N: So, my apologies for the length and delay of this chapter. I am still so completely humbled by your guys' support of this project. Especially since I took some time to go over previous chapters and noticed the errors missed in self-editing. You guys are amazing for supporting me and this tale despite that!
This next chapter includes details directly inspired by a dear friend of mine and fellow author of the anime realm, Galaxy Visionary. Her descriptions, most especially in her work Black Out, heavily and directly influenced this chapter. Thank you, my friend, for continuing to be a much needed source of support, love, friendship, and inspiration.
As a side note, you think my original character Kristean Mitchell is awful (especially in this chapter), just imagine what it's like in my mind...
Enjoy the update, and don't forget to review!
Celio
9th Ave & Washington
New York City, New York
Friday, November 24th, 2017
(Black Friday)
Everything about this evening made her feel like someone else.
The loud, oppressive music.
The intimate, darkened ambiance.
The strangers mingling amongst themselves at the bar or in various corners of the club.
The way she had dedicated precious time after work in styling her thick, voluminous raven tresses in such a way to cause soft, tantalizing curls to cascade over her left shoulder. Revealing the tanned, russet color of her exposed back.
Even the attire she had chosen to clothe herself with.
The uncharacteristically form fitting, backless dress...in one of her favorite colors, black...hugged her curves and impressive backside to end off at just above her knees. Classy enough for an elegant night club of this caliber. But a sexy fingertip length that begged to have a man's hands there.
This dress, even...or maybe most especially...made Ria feel like a completely different woman.
Someone else entirely.
Someone sultry.
Mysterious.
Exotic, and alluring.
A braver, more confident version of a girl...
A woman.
One who had never been hurt.
Or broken.
One who had never been given the endless sea of reasons to distrust.
Others.
Herself.
A woman who scoffed at the mere notion of such self doubt.
A woman, who openly laughed at the condescending voice of dissent that told her she would never amount to anything on her own.
There had been so many times...where she had managed to convince herself that there was a level of honor in being a survivor. That she could, and should, wear this title proudly. Like a badge. Thriving in the face of adversity and unspeakable horrors. Conquering one's demons to rise above and move forward.
To have survived, and...better yet...made something of herself.
To prove the cruel internal voice of dissent wrong.
But...then...
There were so many other times.
Other days...
Where she was still just a nameless, faceless baggage screener.
Or...worse yet...
That same fragile, misguided fourteen year old girl.
Her dark, burnished eyes dropped with these dour thought. Down to the counter top of the bar where she sat, and to the glass of rich red wine she had ordered for herself. Having angled her body to the side of the bar, legs crossed at the ankle, gave her the opportunity to people watch.
To scan the crowd.
And read the people gathered at this party to see if any of them gave off signals that they knew something.
Anything.
Her gaze drifted from her glass of wine, slowly along the endless, nameless faces. Some clearly well-to-do. Dressed in the finest fashions New York City offered. Others sporting a more anarchistic style. Goth. Punk. Grunge. A style probably just as expensive, but none the less separating them from those who chose to openly conform to wealthy society.
But all of them.
Every single one.
They were all here for the same reason.
To bear witness to this more than slightly scandalous spectacle of a social gathering. To watch one of their own raised and immortalized as his own record label openly used the tragedy of his untimely death for monetary profit. The release and sale of the band's unfinished album presented and hailed like the Holy Grail of the deceased artist's legacy.
His final words, laced in haunting melodies, the last piece of himself left behind in the wake of his suicide.
It felt wrong. But like a grisly car crash, everyone found themselves stopping to take a look, whether they wanted to or not.
As she took in the mass of unfamiliar faces, fingertips gently grazing her glass of wine as she looked without really seeing, Ria suddenly felt something change. A startling shift in the atmosphere that drew her out of this stupor. As if the room had experienced an abrupt drop in temperature that made her physically shudder. Her exposed flesh quivering as it puckered with the explosion of visible goose bumps along her arms and shoulders. A tingling surge of electricity ran from the bottom of her spine, between her shoulder-blades to blossom along the crown of her head as her dark gaze instinctively navigated her surroundings for the source of this intrusion.
A form of hyper-vigilance that had been ingrained in her at a tender age in order to detect and avoid danger.
To survive.
And as others turned their heads, her eyes followed before identifying the new arrival to the night club.
A face that Ria found herself recognizing.
The band's producer. Kristean Mitchell
And as he entered the club, he stood apart from both separate and distinct groups that had gathered for this evening's events. The more rebellious, ragtag group, and those dressed in a finer, more eloquent style. Because, though he had dressed himself in yet another beautifully tailored suit, the man had forgone the formality of a jacked and tie for tonight's gathering. The black fitted vest wrapped itself possessively around his slender waist. The sleeves of his dress shirt, having been casually rolled to just above the elbows, gave him a slightly more personable, after hours look. The top buttons of his dress shirt seemed purposely left undone to reveal a thin, delicate chain and small gold charm. Too small for Ria to identify through the low lighting of the club and distance, but a piece of jewelry nonetheless worn with all the masculine flare and strength of a strategically chosen power tie.
The whole ensemble gave him a dark, suave appearance that echoed and complemented the classic, almost regal beauty of his date in the black cocktail dress. The band's manager and disgruntled woman who had escorted them through the lobby for Gillian's meeting with the man. And he boldly finished off this entire look with tantalizingly attractive, mussed raven black hair. Left almost haphazardly disheveled for the evening as if a woman's hands and fingers had already had their way with him and his dark tresses before he had come here.
And...maybe they had. Judging by the way he had just waltzed into the club smiling.
All eyes were transfixed upon the beguiling couple, enamored with their dark beauty as the man gave a slow, almost wry little side smile to the sudden attention they had managed to obtain upon their arrival. All eyes took in their slow approach across the length of the club as they made their way to join one of the smaller groups congregating at the open bar where Ria sat. All eyes flicked with a level of curious fascination and interest.
Even her own dark gaze was held captivated towards the man's almost magnetic presence before that vibrant pale blue gaze...the true color of his eyes now currently veiled by fashionable, translucent designer RayBan sunglasses...gravitated towards her ogling.
Cordially dismissing himself from the small group at the end of the bar, the man began a slow, predatory stalk towards Ria as her gaze flitted away towards her drink. But avoiding directly looking at him didn't seem to stifle the man's overwhelming presence as Ria felt him wordlessly lay claim to the seat next to her. Sitting in such a way as to gaze outward towards the gathered crowd as he reclined against the bar, utilizing the counter as a makeshift backrest.
Ria continued to tentatively watch him from her peripheral as he lit the cigarette he'd stealthily retrieved from his business trousers. Taking a slow, satisfied drag, the man released a small screen of smoke to veil his profile before his left arm came languidly draped along the counter of the bar towards Ria and her glass of wine as he slowly encroached upon her personal space. His wrist adorned with another tasteful watch and neon wristband for his entrance into the club.
And he was just close enough for Ria feel unsettled with the proximity of his body to hers.
But not so close as to cause her to immediately want to abandon her place at the bar.
And she witnessed through a discreet side-glance how he gave a little side smirk to this. This little game he was playing with her. Casually people watching as he sat right next to her. Taking another drag of his cigarette. Close enough to signal that he was sitting with her, and her alone, while proceeding to openly ignore her like she tried to ignore him.
Tried...
And failed...
From the brief, minute expression that had flashed across his face...features now made almost unworldly in their ethereal appearance under the low lights of the club...Ria could tell that he was rather amused at how uncomfortable he was able to make her. He seemed to be enjoying the idea of making her squirm under her bodice without so much as a word or glance in her direction as slender fingertips began to lightly drum a beat along the surface of the counter-top where his free hand rested near her glass of wine.
This bizarre non-interaction continued for several minutes as her gaze drifted between those fingers and her untouched glass, holding her tongue as she debated with her self on simply taking her drink and moving. Finding somewhere else to sit. Away from him. But then...she wondered if he would follow her if she did that. Back and forth, she silently argued with herself to the rhythm of his finger-taps before they suddenly stopped, drawing her gaze up towards his face.
The smallest sigh slipped through the man's nose in a thin puff of smoke, snuffing out his spent cigarette in the ashtray to his right before those same slender fingertips made their way to his designer frames. With his right hand, the tips of his middle finger and thumb came in light contact with the rim of his sunglasses to slowly draw them up and away from his face. Revealing the truly hypnotic vibrance of his eyes as the glasses came gently nestled in the deliciously tantalizing mess of his jet black hair.
And this slightest change had given him the faintest air of vulnerability and openness. His appearance coming off just a bit younger than his years with this gentle disarmament and the way he now splayed and stretched both of his arms along the bar's surface behind him. Completely owning the space as he looked out towards the crowd, offering Ria an attractive view of his profile. Until, with the slowed turn and tilt of his head, he finally came to face Ria. Their gaze meeting in a sudden and almost violent collision of pale blue and dark mahogany brown.
And his eyes...
Those pale, icy oceanic eyes were like beautifully destructive waters. Dangerous, in the way they fascinated and enthralled her as they simultaneously threatened to drag her down. Submerge and baptize her in their treacherous, frigid depths. With no hope of a lifeline for her to cling to before going under completely.
When she looked into his eyes...
Plunged into the depths of that riveting pale blue gaze...
It felt like she was drowning.
And with the way he looked at her now. With that mesmeric stare. He looked at her, with the faintest smirk of a smile, as if to wordlessly express to her that he believed she wanted something from him.
...and...
That he also intended to make her work for it.
And Ria gave a small, disapproving scowl towards his unamuzing antics as that smug little side smirk twitched infinitesimally further along his features. Giving a sigh, she held his gaze in a forced stare.
"Hi." She uttered sternly in an attempt convey her displeasure.
"So..." He whispered before an absolutely beguiling smile spread along his tragically beautiful features. "She speaks." The man murmured lowly, his voice and tone dancing along the promise of laughter. "I mean...with the way Gillian dominated the meeting last week...I really wasn't sure." He grinned to her, keeping his body angled towards the crowd as he held her dark gaze. "It's nice to finally hear what you sound like, Ria." His voice lowered with the intimate whisper of her name, causing Ria to have to slightly incline herself towards him to hear his words. "May I call you Ria?" He asked in afterthought with the smirk of a smile as her brows furrowed in slight disapproval.
"Torres." She corrected with the distancing use of her surname. "What do you want?" This came asked with the small furrow of her brows as the man's expression came shaped in a strangely playful expression.
"Oh...it's not what I want." He offered her a beguiling smile, his eyes languidly roaming her body before surfacing towards her face once more. "The question is..." This came lowly murmured with that almost paralyzing gaze of his. "...what do you want..?"
"Excuse me?" She quipped with a small, unamuzed scowl towards his antics.
"Come on..." This came through a slightly smug smirk of a smile. "I'm not a stupid man, Torres." He politely played along with her subtle request for distance with the formal use of her surname as he himself now leaned in ever so slightly along the bar from his reclined position. "I know that you weren't at that little meeting of ours to take notes." And she watched as his startling gaze roamed her face, seeking some form of validation to this.
"What?" She whispered with the furrow of her brows, her own eyes flickered along his ethereal features.
"Okay, fine..." He countered, taking in her bemused and somewhat perplexed expression. "So you weren't there only to take notes." This slightest and seemingly unimportant clarification of semantics rolled off the tongue followed by a knowing smirk of a smile.
"What makes you say that?" Ria asked tersely in an attempt to cover up and veil her growing trepidation in the face of this man.
"The way you were looking at me." He whispered this bold statement just above the cacophony of the club, holding her dark gaze with that magnetic, predatory stare as he said this. "You couldn't keep you're eyes off of me." His eyes trailed down her body before slowly creeping themselves back up to her face again. "The whole time Gillian was talking to me." The man gave a small pause of consideration before continuing. "Now...normally I'd be a bit flattered by that." He said. "With a beautiful woman such as yourself." This came with the smallest twitch of a side smile. "But then..." He murmured with the slight furrow of his brows and cant of the head. "...it didn't really seem like you were staring at me in the good way."
"Really..." Ria's tone came a bit put off by the man's antics as he continued to hold her gaze, giving a small passive hum.
"Mm" This came an attractive sound from his throat and chest followed by a smug, cockeyed smirk. "So..." He murmured quietly enough that Ria had to lean just a bit further towards him to hear his words. "...what was it you were really doing, Torres..?" Her name came a breathless whisper from his thin, perfect lips as she swallowed hard along this question.
And as she gazed upon him, she found herself questioning how she should respond.
What she should say...if anything at all.
But as she sank into the depths of those pale blue eyes, Ria knew two thing for certain.
That he already knew he was on to her.
...and...
That he was tenaciously determined in finding out what she was withholding from him.
"I was...watching you." Ria murmured as the man's expression shaped itself into the faintest makings of bemusement.
"Watching me..?" He asked curiously with the furrow of thin brows as he held her dark gaze. "Why?"
"To gauge your non-verbal responses and reactions to Gillian's questions."
"...really..." The man's interest came piqued, his expression mildly aroused and stimulated with the slowly creeping smile that curled the corners of his lips as he finally angled his body towards hers.
In the low light of the club, the small glint of his jewelry caught her gaze. And Ria noticed that the charm he wore around his neck like an Armani tie was a small, gold cross. Haunting in its unassuming beauty as it rested against the pale glow of his skin.
"Find out anything interesting about me?" This question drew her eyes back to his face as he gave an almost lascivious smile to her staring.
"Honestly?" She uttered with the small furrow of her brows. "You come off as a bit calloused." And with this blunt response, Ria witnessed his amused and slightly libidinous expression become just a bit perplexed.
"Really..?" He asked with the cant of his head, looking mildly surprised by this. "Because I've been told I come off as a bit of a douche-bag."
As Ria's jaw went slack, the man's bemused expression shifted as a radiantly beguiling smile broke across his handsome features towards her open reaction at having been caught off guard with his jest.
"Wow." Ria muttered under her breath with the raise of her brows as she collected herself...staring the man down who merely gazed right back at her. "You really do enjoy being a jerk, don't you?" And he gave a low chuckle in response to this.
"I'm not sure enjoyment has much to do with it." He said with a faint smile. "I just don't feel like fighting against my natural disposition."
"Which is to be unpleasant?" Ria quipped sardonically with the raise of a brow, gaining a slow, creeping smile from the man.
"Deeply...in fact" The man offered this with a grin before giving a small shrug, his words coming slow and pensive in thought as he mused to himself. "I find that being an asshole works for me."
"Seriously?" Ria's tone and expression came openly dubious in challenge to this statement.
"Sure." The man gave another small shrug of the shoulders as if to physically brush off her doubt. "I get everything that I want..." He murmured lowly, his eyes having drawn themselves towards the infinitesimal, minute details of the counter-top's surface as he spoke. "Besides..." His voice came an almost lifelessly melodic whisper with the lift of his exotic gaze. "...it helps that I really don't care what people think."
The two held each others gaze in a moment of silence as the abrasive sounds of the night club's celebrations continued to swirl around them. And Ria searched the man's face for something... Anything at all that would have given an indication. A feeling. An emotional response or affect to correspond with how lonely these words had just made him sound.
But all she saw...was an absence of what she might have expected to see.
And there were only two things she could surmise from this.
Either he was bluffing in order to impress her in some way with this show of indifference towards what others thought of him.
Or...
He honestly meant what he had just said.
But...she couldn't quite make out which one it might be, and had to begrudgingly admit that both were equally unnerving. And she felt that she needed to take a ventured guess.
"That sounds like a really lonely way to live." She offered up this observation in a soft whisper, watching the man consider this a moment as he fished for his second cigarette.
Slender fingers gracefully curled around the end of the fresh cigarette as he lit it. A soft glow briefly illuminated his ethereal features with the flick of his lighter before darkening again with the lower light of the club. A slow, pensive curl of of smoke creeped from between his perfect, parted lips as he looked away from her and towards the crowd.
"Hitting me with the whole 'lonely at the top' mentality, now?" He mused as he continued to stare at nothing in particular, taking another pensive drag of his cigarette. "Yeah, well..." This came with the faintest twitch of a smile through that thin veil of smoke before his exotic gaze found her face once more. "...that's really not me." And that smirk of a smile lifted just a bit further at her expense.
"...I'm not so sure about that..." Ria whispered this lightly, her own dark gaze drifting towards the deep, rich color of her untouched wine.
"Please..." This came a soft, condescending snort through a thin veil of smoke from the man's slender nose. "If I'd wanted this type of conversation, I would have gone up to Gillian instead of you."
"What's that suppose to mean?" Ria quipped with a small scowl.
"It means..." His cold gaze narrowed along her disgruntled expression. "...that you really aren't qualified to be poking around in my head." He murmured lowly, holding her stare before looking away with another dismissive shrug. "Though I doubt Gillian is, either." This followed the light drag of his cigarette before he loosed a smoky chuckle as he looked through the crowd. "Not that it wouldn't be fun laying on her couch." He mused to himself in a melodically smooth, languid tone. "Letting her pop the hood."
"So if you didn't want to have a conversation with me, why did you come up to me and single me out?" Ria asked, perplexed by this man's interest in her as he gave the furrow of his brows in consideration to this question.
"Honestly?"
"That'd be nice." Ria quipped, holding those magnetic pale blue eye in a challenging stare as the man gave the faintest smirk of a smile.
"I was kind of hoping you'd let me by you a drink."
"No thanks." She muttered as politely as she could manage to this offer. "I already have one."
"This?" The man questioned with an underwhelmed glance of disapproval towards her glass of red wine.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing." The man mused as he considered the drink for a moment before his eyes returned to her face once more. "It's just that it's completely wrong for you."
"How so?" She countered tersely, baffled as to how an alcoholic drink could be considered inappropriate for her.
"It's boring." This came sharply blunt and to the point. "And safe." He said with the faintest twitch of a side smile to her. "Frankly...I think you can do better."
And before her very eyes, the man switched his cigarette from one hand to the other. It came gracefully poised between the fingers of his left hand before perishing in a funeral of smoke and ash as it was snuffed out in the ashtray next to him. She watched on helplessly in a mild state of baffled confusion as to what he was now up to before the slender fingers of his dominant hand wrapped themselves possessively around her wine glass to claim the drink in question for himself.
"Hey!" Ria chastised the man's daring behavior as he wordlessly smiled to her. "I wasn't done with that."
"You are now." He countered as he lifted the glass from the counter.
"That's mine." She protested, her tone and expression interlaced and shifting between perplexed outrage.
"Not anymore." The man declared as he took a brazen sip of her cup, holding her dark smoldering glare before the glass came at rest against the bar. "It's mine now." He said, having just laid claim to it with his lips as the glass remained in his curled grasp. "Unless you'd like to share." This bold offer came like the testing of stilled waters with a cockeyed smile to Ria's openly perturbed expression.
"No." She answered curtly as he responded with a low chuckled laugh.
"I didn't think so." He admitted with a triumphantly cocky, debonair smile before flagging down the tender at the other end of the bar.
"What can I get for you tonight?" The tender asked, his gaze drifting between the two at the bar.
"The lady needs a Mexican Black Russian." The man stated, ordering Ria the drink she had just turned down as the bartender gave a nod with a small grin.
"Coming right up."
"A Mexican Black Russian?" Ria asked, keeping her gaze on the bartender a few feet away as he made her drink.
And she wasn't quite sure if she should be offended by this order or not.
"Some clubs call it the Brave Bull." She heard the man say, watching him through her peripheral as she kept her gaze on her new drink.
"What is it?" Ria asked.
"Something that suits you." This came lowly murmured as her gaze drifted away from the bartender to take in the expression of amusement etched along the man's handsome features. "It's tequila and Kahlua on the rocks." He finally answered her question as the bartender finished off her drink and presented it to her.
And Ria couldn't help but take in this gift with trepidation. As if it were a wild dog about to attack her. Because she didn't trust who it had come from.
"The drink's not going to hurt you." She heard this soft whisper through the cacophony of the club as she gazed upon the dark liquid in the beautifully crafted, elegant crystal tumbler. "In fact..." This drew her gaze from the dark, rich gift as her eyes once again landed into those frigid liquid pools. "...you may find you actually enjoy it." She held the man's mesmeric stare as he gave a smile to her apprehension. "Just try it." He coaxed with that beguiling smile. "If you like it...I might just get you another one."
"And if I don't like it..?" She countered, her voice coming far more breathy and affected by this offer than she had wanted it to.
She didn't like this tilted stage she found herself on when he gazed at her. The way she felt herself tugged and pulled from a simple conversation about a drink...to something else entirely. The subtle way he was able to simultaneously lure her in and set her body on edge with anticipation. Questioning the intentions of this offer. Of his words. The way he looked at her. And smiled.
"If you don't like it," He said through that smooth melodic tenor as he held her questioning gaze. "then you'll just have to tell me what you do like so I can give it to you." And suddenly she sensed that he was no longer talking about the drink.
Ria gave a small pause to this. Turning it around in her head. Over and over again, to decide how to interpret this. Because the calm placid expression along his face gave nothing away. But his eyes as he held her dark gaze. They somehow seemed to speak volumes to her through their icy depths as he waited for her to take the next turn. Waited...for her to make the next move with all of the predatory patience he had displayed when he had first descended upon her, having painstakingly bided his time for her to speak first. He waited like that now, watching her make up her mind in this little game of his. A game she found that she had never actually agreed to play with him.
With this, Ria finally took the drink in her hand. Tentatively wrapping her fingers around the glass, she took a cautious sip of the liquid as the taste of it slowly washed itself over her taste-buds. And she was taken aback by the surprise this drink offered. A little more on the darker side, this drink skipped all of the fruity flavors commonly found in tequila. Opting instead for an even bolder flavor pairing. Coffee. The raw burn of the tequila was finely balanced, softened and offset by the creamy, almost faint hint of chocolate from the Kahlua. Making it rich and smooth with the way it warmed her from the inside out.
"It's good, isn't it?" The man offered, having watched her partake of his gift with a smug little side smile.
"Yeah, actually." Ria muttered in agreement through her surprise. "It's not bad." And the man gave a soft chuckle to this, taking another casual sip of the wine he'd stolen from her as that cocky little smile spread along his lips.
"Told you." His tone came wholly satisfied in this triumph with an expression to match as the two settled into a more comfortable silence.
A silence that didn't demand to be filled with meaningless, idle conversation. His oppressive, predatory gaze no longer threatening to drown her as they now both looked upon the crowd. People watching as they sipped their drinks. Set apart in their own little world, away from the haze of sounds colors and people continuing to whirl around them. Languidly swirling the rich red drink in the shapely glass, the man watched the wine move to the tempo of the graceful dance he had commanded it into. His expression pensive before he spoke.
"You know..." He mused, almost seeming to talk to the glass as he murmured this. "...I've never really understood why women have been described like fine wine."
"I take it you don't by in to that?" Ria almost scoffed, her voice lightly laced in bitterness towards the sexist tone of his words.
"Not really." The man admitted, taking another small sip of the drink in his hand before continuing. "I mean...I've never been able to actually drink a woman." He said with a faint smile. "So the sentiment doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me." And Ria managed to stifle a condescending snort by lacing her full Latina lips around the drink this man had given her, forcing herself to remain silent as he continued in his philosophical musing.
"To me..." This came murmured lowly from the space between them as his gaze finally lifted from the wine to Ria's face. "...a woman's body is more like a finely crafted instrument." He offered this simile as he held her captive with his alluring, predatory stare. "Some...are designed like an authentic Stradivarius violin." His voice came smooth along the wine he took his time with as he spoke. "And others..." He said, giving the briefest pause as the corner of his lip lifted in intimation. "Others...are build like a classic Fender Strat." And Ria's brows furrowed to this trope as her lips set themselves in a taut line of baffled displeasure.
"An electric guitar? Really?" Ria quipped, completely unnerved towards his words as he merely smiled to her. "You..." She breathed in disbelief. "...see me..." This came with the dubious, pointed lift of her brow. "Like a guitar?" The man's smile widened with this question as he gave a small, unassuming shrug to counter her disapproval.
"Maybe I do." His eyes lingered on her daringly for just a bit longer than comfortable, causing her to subconsciously bite along her lower lip before speaking.
"Well that's a bit sexist and objectifying." She countered, glaring at him in an attempt to definitively convey that she wasn't at all amused by this revelation.
"Maybe..." He countered her rebuttal towards the dehumanizing nature of this comparison. "Just a bit." This agreement came offered as he met her indignation with an almost whimsically playful smile. "But when you think about it, you have to admit that it's a better analogy than wine." He said as he persisted in making his point. "A fretted stringed instrument." This came lowly murmured in that haunting melodic tone. "With a neck..." His eyes watched as Ria unconsciously swallowed under the heat of these evocative words and the alcohol she had consumed. "...and body..." With this, her eyes fluttered away from his exposing gaze as she took another drink from the glass to distract herself. "...that's able to convert the vibration of its strings into electrical signals." She took another, larger sip to steady and distance herself from these feelings building within her to a painful crescendo, wishing that the drink would somehow cool her. "The vibration occurs when someone strums, plucks or fingers the strings." The low, almost torturous whisper of his voice drew her in as her lips parted along the glass in a soft sigh, her mind helplessly reeling with thoughts and desires her body cried out for. "And when you know what you're doing..." The man proceeded to whisper to her waiting ear, filling her head with the most sinful, erotic images as he continued his verbal foreplay. "...she ends up making the most beautiful sounds." He said as the tips of his fingers unobtrusively grazed themselves along the top of her hand. "It's all in the touch." This subtle, unassuming touch finally lifted her gaze towards his face and the smile lingering along his lips. "But like any instrument, the potential can't be fully reached in the hands of an amateur."
The two silently held each others gaze. And without even realizing it, Ria had been reduced to breathlessness with his words and the way he now leered at her. Wordlessly communicating how much he thought of himself, and that he believed he was no amateur.
"Do you want more?" He asked, causing her brows to furrow as she was lifted from these risque thoughts.
'What..?" She blinked, perplexed by what he had meant by this question as he simply smiled to her.
"Your glass." He said. "It's empty." This caused her gaze to drift towards the crystal tumbler on the counter back to his amused expression. "Do you want more?" This repetition gave her pause as Ria truly found herself pondering this man's offer before giving her reply.
"Yes." She admitted honestly as she held his penetrating gaze. "But I'm not sure that I should." And the odd comfort of his hand tracing hers ceased as the expression of his face came a mixture of concern and disappointment.
"You don't trust me." He said, his exotic pale gaze seeming to search her face for reply.
"Honestly..?" She murmured, holding his stare. "I'm not so sure that I trust myself right now." And the man loosed a quick burst of an amused guffaw.
"Are you planning on jumping my bones?" He asked bluntly, more than a little amused by her open confession as her gaze shamefully drifted towards the counter's surface.
And Ria felt the full force of these confusing mixed emotions rushing themselves upon her. Muddled and hazed through the alcohol she had consumed. That this man had somehow managed to stir the most primal part of herself. The animalistic side of her that didn't care that she was at this event in a professional capacity. Taking in her chagrined demeanor, the man's voice came softer in coaxing, though still a little amused at what he had just heard.
"I'm a big boy." He murmured lightly, drawing her gaze up from the bar as she met his gaze and the wry smile playing itself along his lips. "I think I can handle you."
And...Ria found herself overwhelmed and worried over just that.
"Come on." He coaxed gently with a strange little smile. "One more drink won't kill you. Besides..." This came softly murmured as he leaned himself in to broach the space between them. "Drinks are a great remedy for loosening tight lips, so to speak. And the only thing I enjoy more than the company of a beautiful woman..." These words came so quietly murmured with such weight as he held her gaze, leading her along the sound of his voice as he gave a brief pregnant pause before continuing. "Is a really. Good. Secret."