SKULLS
From: Lovely Vero
Fan Fiction – Alternate Universe TVD & the Originals
Main pairings:
Caroline Forbes & Klaus Mikaelson
Katherine Pierce & Elijah Mikaelson
Also starring:
Bonnie Bennett and Kol Mikaelson
Stephan Salvatore and Rebekah Mikaelson
My dear readers: For those who have followed my story "Blind Love", who has been recently concluded, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your appreciation, dedication and love of that story. Now … Forget all that you do know about that fiction, do a 360 degrees turn/swirl on yourselves and embark with me into this wild, edgy, dark, adventurous and sexy new story titled: "SKULLS". And that is all I will say while teasingly winking at you all.
Fasten your seat-belts, ready? Go!
Disclaimer: This story will touch delicate subjects such as children and women trafficking, abuse, rape, drugs, weapons trafficking – but these subjects will not touch the characters' pairings personally. Please, be advised of my warning. If you're a sensitive person in regards of all those subjects, you should rethink reading it. This said, it's important that you also remember that it is also a story that is a fiction, coming from my own imagination; and which is written in relation of the mafia and the bikers' world.
CHAPTER 1
~ PROLOGUE ~
Songs inspiration
Gangsta's Paradise from: Coolio
Lose yourself from: Eminem
Los Alamos, New Mexico, inside the Skulls' bar…
The heels of the old leather biker boots started to hit the scratched wood floor in synchronized banging sounds, until the tall man would come to a halt at a few meters of distance of a dartboard.
"Shut your big mouths!" He shouted the order; triggering a church silence among the large group of men sitting at the tables.
Klaus Mikaelson, aka: vampiro (vampire in Spanish), one of the leaders of the bikers group Skulls, slowly rose his right arm and hand (that was holding a black dart) in the air; before narrowing his sight to visualize the inside of the smaller circle on the round wood panel, while many of the bikers present in the bar were holding their breaths to see if one of their bosses would win the challenge or not.
The world of mafia leaders and bandidos would tell you that the nickname vampiro had been given to him to glorify the blood of his mortal enemies that the man had been able to spill over the streets of many cities all over New Mexico. His tall stature, his musculature, his leather jacket with a skull engraved on its back, and the many tattoos he was sporting all over his body, as well as the long scar on his right cheek were strong added symbols attached to his nickname that would add to the veracity of their say. If the legend was urban or not was to each individual to figure out.
"You know boss, I believe you're starting to lose your touch at this game." A bearded chubby man teased; his right hand raising a bottle of beer to his mouth.
"Shush!" The vampiro silenced the man in a whisper; before throwing the darts with much precision inside the smaller circle, under the cheering and loud banging of fists on the tables of the bikers present in the bar.
"Don't ever doubt my abilities to win a challenge, Big Joe! If you want to stay alive that is." Klaus warned him, while pointing a straight finger at the man; before straddling a chair and raising a finger at a black curly hair waitress: "Anita, whisky por favor!"
"One minuto, me amor!" The waitress responded, all smile.
"You do realize that she wants to be in your bed, right?" Big Joe whispered, grinning.
"Maybe she was already. Maybe she wants an "encore"." The vampiro responded, winking. "Don't forget I have my regular girl, if I want to … Let say it sweetly…fuck!"
"You're such a romantic guy, Klaus." The chubby man responded, chuckling inside his beer bottle. "No wonder all women want to be in your bed."
"It's the scar on my face," Klaus responded, pointing toward his right cheek. "And, the all biker attitude that attracts them all. As for Hayley; she accepted the conditions of sex only. She knows me, and she knows how to handle my life." He added, shrugging. "It's a win-win for the both of us."
"As for your inability to win this challenge; please, accept my deepest apologies, boss." Big Joe made a comical reverence; throwing a few peanuts in his mouth; before nodding in respect toward one of the two only men that he would always call boss. "What time is Elijah getting out?"
"Ten." Klaus replied, while eyeing the old clock above the bar counter. "In about thirty minutes."
"Here's your whisky, me Amor." Anita addressed herself to the tall man; before sliding the small glass on the table. "Anything else I can do for you?" She asked, tilting her head; with one hand placed over her torn pair of short, on her right hip.
"Nothing for the moment, love; thank you." He responded, gently slapping her bottom; while she giggled her way back to the counter.
"Un-fucking-believable!" Big Joe shook his head. "If you would kindly ask her, she would knell in front of you, lower the zipper of your jean, and give you a blow job!"
"Probably." Klaus responded, all smile; before gulping his whisky in one shot.
"You know what I wish for you?" The chubby, bearded man said; lowering his upper body over the table. "I wish on you a blonde chick, with a lady bag, and lady shoes, and a Chanel suit!"
The vampire lowered his head toward the back, before bursting into a frank laughter: "You know that I hate chicks like that, and that I hate even more, blondes. "
"Yes! But, it is still my wish, so you could suffer like the rest of us men!" Big Joe said his piece, before questioning in a more serious matter: "Any human trafficking activities since the last ones?"
"Only a few rumors about Desperaldo wanting to traffic American women." Klaus responded, in a lower tone.
"Please tell me you're joking?" The first hand man inquired, in shock. "It was one despicable thing when they would take Mexican young woman and children to sell them to the highest bidder, but American women? They are playing with fire!"
"Some of these foreigner's men want to become masters to young American women; to lower them as slaves." Klaus explained, furthermore.
"The families of all these women would alert the authority all over the USA to retrace them. There is no way Desperaldo would manage to pull a stun like that one!" Big Joe contradicted this ludicrous trafficking idea.
"If he'd made them disappear to the other side of the globe in a couple of days, he'd succeed quite easily; harvesting millions for himself." Klaus replied. "That is enough carrots tangling in front of his nose for him try."
"Fuck!" His right hand man swore; before passing a nervous hand through his long curly hair. "We're screwed!"
"Hey boss?" They heard a man calling from one of the nearby tables. "Is it time to leave?"
Vampiro rose his eyes to the clock, a smile digging both dimples in his cheeks; before promptly jumping on his feet: "You're right. Let's bring my bother home!"
The foul smell of urine, shit and sweat filling the prison cells had filled his lungs with fire and his stomach with acid reflux for the past four months of his incarceration. But, the day (more accurately, the night) of his freedom had finally arrived, and he couldn't be more set to leave this hole from hell behind him.
Elijah Mikaelson, aka: el diablo, main leader of the group of bikers Skulls had passed the four past months locked up behind bars after one of his most lethal enemies, Gabriel Desperaldo, aka: , El escorpión (which traduce into: The Scorpion) had made his move on him by delivering false evidence to the authority regarding a made-up possession of drugs.
It was intended as a warning, of course. If his lethal enemy had wanted to lock him up for good, he would have hidden more than three grams of cocaine at his mansion. This said, it was a war that had lasted long enough and had now reached a none-return, and none-negotiation state between the two.
About six months ago, El escorpión, leader of one of the richest mafia family of Spain, had started trafficking children for slaving purposes, as well as young women aged between fifteen and thirty, to be sold to rich Arabic men from parts of the world such as Africa, Saudi Arabia and United Arab Emirates.
There was a code of honor that el Diablo (Elijah Mikaelson) had promised himself to always followed, and it was to never be mixed up in anything remotely close of trafficking human beings. Same code had been implanted into the value of his family, and group of men. Therefore, on his territory, not a single human being would be treated like an animal or sold like one, and it is a code that Gabriel Desperaldo hadn't appreciate being reminded of; which had explained the warning of being locked up in prison for the past four months.
Elijah held the weight of his entire body balanced on his strengthened muscular arms, before rapidly executing twenty-plus push-ups; while the sweat coated his upper forehead, chest and arms.
At 42 years old, his body was made of steel, his heart of iron, and his brain filled with revenge. He was as tall as his youngest brother, Klaus; though the subtle grey hair in his beard and hair were enough to make him look even more redoubtable and lethal, as well as extremely sexy to all the women who would try to display their assets in hope of being invited into the man's bed.
"Mikaelson!" He heard the order being lashed out at him through the bars of his cell by deputies Jackson.
He lowered both of his arms down, before promptly jumping on both of his feet to stand in front of this asshole. One hour ago, they have already brought back to his cell parts of his personal belongings from the day he had been arrested, in the form of: a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt and a pair of old biker' boots.
"What do you want Jackson?" He responded, insensitive to the authoritarian and rough tone of the man; while grabbing a dirty towel left on his clot, to wipe the sweat off his face.
"Well… I thought you would be interested to know that you'll be out of this five stars penthouse cell at ten o'clock, tonight." The tall and bald man informed him, with a sadistic laugh. "It's in ten minutes, Mikaelson."
"Tell me something I don't know, or get out of my face." Elijah replied, dryly; before slowly advancing toward the bars of his cells to stare (without blanking) into the eyes of the deputies.
"You know," The man continued to try to piss him off; while grabbing one cell bar in each of his hands. "I am just wondering how long it'd take you to come back here, but this time for good. I heard raping was one of the favorite hobbies in here."
"You know," Elijah mimicked in a whisper, placing his face between two bars, at a near inch of the man's. "I wonder how long it would take for … let say, a gossip about you raping a fifteen years old girl to come to your wife's ears? Let say…a day, maybe two?" He shrugged, throwing his lethal blow. "Except it's not a gossip; aren't I right, Jackson?"
The tall man whitened under the effect of this threat thrown at him: "I don't know what you're talking about, Mikaelson?" He replied, shrugging. "And, if I was you I would shut my big mouth, or I could easily keep you locked up for bad behavior."
"I seriously doubt it, Jackson." Elijah replied, winking; and with a creepy smile raising both corners of his full lips. "Now, open that cell door and let me go."
Deputies Jackson let a growl escape his parted lips, while spitting some saliva on the ceramic floor, before grabbing the key-chain placed on his leather belt, only to grab one key to open the cell's door: "Get out of here, Mikaelson!" He ordered, with a dismissive wave of his right hand.
"My utmost pleasure, Jackson!" Elijah replied, raising his heavy biker's boots to cross the threshold of what had been his home in hell for the past four months. "Give my regards to your wife, would you?"
"Fuck you!" Deputies Jackson lashed out at him.
"You wish!" El diablo replied, before hitting the heels of his boots on the grey tiles of the cells corridor leading him to his freedom.
"Hey Mikaelson?" He heard a man calling him. "You're finally free and leaving?"
He stopped on his track, slowly turning his head to take a look at the grey hair man standing in front of his sight, only to retrace his steps to grab the cell's bars: "It seems like it. You have something to tell me, Mateo?"
"Back off or Gabriel Desperaldo will do worse than throwing you in prison for a couple of months. Mark my words; next time, he'll kill you." The man warned; his sight narrowed.
Elijah shrugged, unaffected by his warning: "He'll try, but he won't succeed."
"He certainly succeeded throwing you in prison this time around; what makes you think he won't succeed killing you?" The said Mateo questioned; shrugging, himself.
"Easy…" El Diablo responded; smirking. "I'll kill him first. Words of advice, Mateo; when you'll get out of here, choose carefully whom you are siding with, if you want to stay alive that is." He warned the man, dryly; detaching his strong hands from the bars, before swirling on his heels to rapidly walk toward the exit.
The load of engines' roar coming from the high numbers of Harley Davidson motorcycles was suddenly heard by the guards posted underneath the full moon, at the security grid of the penitentiary.
The vampiro lowered the speed of his powerful machine before parking at a few meters of distance from the grid door where he would see his eldest cross the threshold to his freedom in a short time.
A few of the guards were keeping their narrowed sights on the group of bikers, one hand carefully placed on their weapons; while a few of the Skulls men were now lighting a cigarette to pass the time. But no one, in both groups, was a fool; and at the first sign of hostility, reprisal with gunshots would be heard.
"Look at them staring at us like we are fair animals." Big Joe commented, while chewing on a straw; before lowering his upper arms on the handlebars of his motorcycle.
Klaus smirked, before straddling the leather seat of his motorcycle to stand: "They are the ones behind bars, Big Joe, not us."
"Damn! I don't know how the big boss was able to endure this masquerade for the past months of being locked up inside this clown house." He responded, shaking his head.
"My brother can be resilient when he needs to be." Klaus responded, shrugging.
A van suddenly approached the parked positions of both men. Two tall men got out of the truck, before walking toward the back of it to raise the slide door. They placed a metallic ramp to get a brand new motorcycle out. The said new monster was sporting the letters S.K.U.L.L.S engraved in metallic silver, with the addition of a few yellow flames painted on each side.
"Jesus Christ! What a beauty." Big Joe commented, shaking his head.
"I thought this beauty, as you call it, would certainly lift up Elijah's mood." Vampiro commented, winking.
"You'll say!" The chubby man responded, whistling. "Damn! This didn't cost cheap money; of that fact I'm sure."
"That motorcycle costed a fortune; but was also worth every penny of it." Klaus replied, arms crossed over his bulged chest; before suddenly turning his head toward the grid door, only to see his brother Elijah passed the threshold.
All of the bikers straightened their standing positions, eyes fixated on the guards; hands placed at an inch of their own weapons. If a single one of these deputies would shot a bullet in direction of their boss, a bath of blood would paint the ground in red as they would lose their life.
Klaus opened the storage space place underneath the back seat of his own motorcycle, before retrieving his brother's leather jacket, which was sporting a SKULL image on its back. He slowly took a few walking steps to reach the only man for which he would die for, before handing it to brother: "Hello Elijah. I thought you would have missed it more than anything else." He commented, winking.
"I certainly missed it; Nicklaus." Elijah replied, smiling, while grabbing his leather jacket in his right hand; before pulling his brother into a tight hug. "But it wasn't what I have missed the most." He whispered into his brother's ear.
"Hey boss? You want to hug me too?" Big Joe teased, amicably; while triggering the entire group' laughter.
"Nice to see you too, Big Joe." Elijah shouted in the man's direction. "Nice to see all of you. Now, let's get the fuck out of here!" He suggested, under the loud cheering of his men, and the loud roar of the engines.
"Hey boss! Look what vampiro bought you." The chubby man nodded toward the brand new machine.
Elijah slowly approached the new motorcycle, circling it several times before letting a loud whistle escape his parted lips. "What a beauty. It came to sell recently?"
"That's what I've said… A real beauty." Big Joe nodded.
"Yap, last edition," Klaus nodded, smiling. "Like you wanted it."
"Thanks, Klaus." Elijah addressed his thankfulness to his brother. "Let's go home!"
"You're welcome, asshole." Vampiro teased, before straddling his own machine; while all the men were waiting for their boss to start the engine of his brand new motorcycle to open the convoy.
Elijah Mikaelson, aka El Diablo, straddled his brand new Harley Davidson motorbike, before starting its engine. He made it roar a few times, a huge smile spreading on his bearded face, his foot pressing full gas on the accelerator to make the machine rise in the air on its back wheel.
"Let's go boys!" Big Joe ordered the bikers, with a loud rallying cry.
New York City, 39th Street, 8:30 p.m.…
The sexy, tall brunette, with long legs and a cascade of long curly brown hair, rapidly walked through the busy streets of New York on a Thursday night, while pushing her way through the large crowd of city dwellers and tourists to reach the 39th Street, where she was supposed to meet her bestie Caroline Forbes for a drink and dinner. With a bit of chance and hurrying up her speed, maybe she would reach the pub restaurant before her female friend. Caroline's female boss, a well-reputed French entrepreneur in the fashion industry, had the tendency of keeping her friend after her usual work hours, so the chances to reach their meeting point before her were high.
Her name is Katherine Pierce, and the past day had been a bad one (phone ringing all the time with assholes clients screaming at her) at the real estate brokers company that she was employed. She had worked her ass off during the past three years, in hope of raising herself from her position as a secretary to a better one in the scale of the company. But, today had once again proved her wrong in the fact that her hard work had counted for nothing! Richard Richardson, the nerdy jerk at the clerk position, who passed most of his days at work at scrolling Facebook, had been chosen to become the next broker in title; while she had shown over and over her professional abilities to fulfill the position.
She closed her eyes to calm herself down, while counting to ten to lower her stress level and inhaling the polluted air of this large city inside her lungs; before being bumped into her left shoulder by a large tall man who looked at her like she was a nuisance and responsible of having been in his way.
"Ouch!" Katherine complained, while grabbing her bruised shoulder. "Hey, jerk? Could you just look where you're going?" She lashed out at the tall guy, angrily.
"Whatever!" He responded, rapidly glancing in her direction, before elbowing his friend and bursting into laughter.
"Asshole!" The tall brunette mumbled between her clenched teeth in a low whisper, wiping her forehead of a few drops of sweat; before swirling on herself to reprise her walk, only to have the heel of her black round-toes pump be stuck in a manhole. "Oh, you got to be kidding me?" She complained, some more; before moving her foot in all directions to free herself from this street trap, only to see her heel broke in front of her eyes. "Great! Just perfect!" She commented some more to herself. There goes a new pair of Designer shoes literally down the hole!
She swore some more, leaning forward to release her broken shoe, before grabbing the other to broke its own high heel. At least that way, she'd be able to reach the pub-restaurant and order something strong, very strong … Like a large glass of vodka or a shot of Tequila!
She ended up limping to her destination, before pulling the front door of Carragher's to limp some more toward the bar counter, where she could spot two available bar stools.
"Hey Katherine!" Matthew (one of the usual barmen/waiters) saluted her, amicably. "How are you, gorgeous?"
"Hey Matt …I'm exhausted and in a bad mood." She replied to him, while pulling on her short length body con black dress to hump on the higher stool. "Give me a large glass of vodka, straight up!"
"That bad, mm?" He questioned, smirking; while pouring the strong clear alcohol into a glass, before sliding the said glass on the counter to reach her standing position.
"Even worse than you could imagine." She responded, gulping the entirety of her glass; before wincing at the bitter taste. "Ewe… this is good, and exactly what I needed!"
"You did not get the job you wanted?" He questioned, lowering his upper arms on the counter.
She shook her head, while keeping her sight down; before raising her head back-up to glance at him: "It's OK, who needs a higher salary anyway?" She tried to joke; while feeling sad.
"I'm sorry, darling." He expressed his apologies for her crappy day, squeezing her left hand. "At least in a few days you still have a week of vacation with Caroline in Mexico."
"Yeah… At least there is that." She agreed with a nonchalant shrug "Did you see her?" She finally scattered the large room in search of her friend.
"Who, Caroline?" He questioned, before promptly adding: "No, I don't think she's here yet."
"What's new?" Katherine rolled her eyes, smirking. "She's always late."
"Oh! I think…" Matthew suddenly rose his head, while looking above the crowd at the entrance door of the pub. "Yes…Here she is!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I'm terribly late!" A bubbly, tall and beautiful blonde (named Caroline Forbes) appeared by Katherine's side.
"Tell me something I don't know, Caroline?" Katherine replied, sighing loudly.
"Well, it's not my fault, you know how Georgette is, don't you?" She stipulated the fact about her Parisian female boss, more than questioning. "Caroline, can you do this for me before you go; and also can you do that?"
"Yes, yes … I know!" Katherine rolled her eyes at her friend.
"What happened to your shoes?" Caroline questioned while eyeing both broken heels on Katherine's feet.
"Manhole." The brunette responded to her friend, with a shrug.
"Oh my God, Katherine; I'm so sorry! Your beautiful pair of Louboutin shoes are garbage now!" The bubbly, curly hair, tall blonde presented her deepest apologies; with her right hand placed on her chest, over her heart.
"Yeah … I was thinking of jumping over the guardrail of the Empire State Building roof so you could give my Louboutin shoes an appropriate burial." Katherine teased, with a tilt of her head and an evil smile.
"Screw you, Pierce!" Caroline responded, with a roll of her eyes; before pouting silently while taking a sitting position on the stool beside her friend.
"Hey beautiful blonde!" Matthew greeted Caroline; while walking back to their sitting positions. "Do you want something to drink?"
"Hi Matthew. I'll take a glass of white wine, please." Caroline responded to the young man, as well as avoiding to glance at her friend.
"Katherine, something else?" Matthew inquired, some more.
"Same as her." Katherine replied with a smile.
"Coming right up!" Matthew nodded.
After a few additional minutes of silence forced on her, Katherine felt uncomfortable and started to elbow her friend: "Caroline…Are you still mad at me? Am I forgiven? I had a horrible day."
The bubbly blonde suddenly turned her head to glance back at the brunette: "Oh my God, Katherine; was it today the announcement of who got the promotion at your office? Did you get it?" She exclaimed with an enthusiastic clap of her manicured hands; before (as rapidly) losing her smile: "Obviously not if you had a horrible day."
"You guessed it right, I did not get it." Katherine confessed, with a forced smile plastered on her face.
"It's disgusting! You've work so hard the past few years to get that promotion." Caroline commented, while robing her friend's back. "You know what? Fuck them for not recognizing how amazing of a woman you truly are at your job."
"Thanks, you're a true friend." The brunette responded, with a shy smile. "And, Forbes…What the hell are you wearing?" She questioned, wide eyes and with a wince, while noticing her friend's outfit.
"What? It's the latest Fendi trend …It's called pink-a-boo dress. Do you like it?" Caroline questioned, all smile; while replacing the big pink bow (as big as her face!) in front of her chest.
"Where does it peekaboo anything remotely recognizable as skin?" Katherine questioned, with disgust perceived in her voice.
"Not peak-a-boo, you … PINK-A-BOO… As the color pink!" Caroline rectified the given term.
"Oh… Of course, stupid me!" Her female friend responded while hitting her forehead with her opened palm, as a teasing gesture.
"And look! Georgette gifted me with this sample of the latest Chanel bag; isn't it the prettiest thing you ever saw?" Caroline questioned, enthusiastically.
"Well," Katherine grabbed the sophisticated black Designer bag in her hands. "The outfit is outrageous, but the bag … I would gladly take."
"Whatever." Caroline shrugged her friend's opinion off her shoulders.
"You never thought of dressing sexier?" Katherine questioned.
"Like you?" The pretty blonde responded, eyeing the curb-revealing dress of her female friend.
"Yes, like me!" She replied, obfuscated. "What is wrong with the way I dress?"
"Nothing is wrong per say; you're a beautiful woman, Katherine." Caroline replied, truthfully. "I'm engaged, remember? I couldn't dress like you, Tyler wouldn't like it." She raise her left hand in the air, where a diamond ring was sparkling. "He would think that I'm thrash."
"Please don't remind me your engagement to that asshole." She commented dryly and with a wince.
"He's a respected lawyer in one of the biggest firms in New-York City!" Caroline reminded her friend of her fiancé achievement.
"Mister I have sex in one position only, missionary style!" Katherine rolled her eyes.
"I should have never shared that … that personal information with you!" She shouted, angrily; with a straight finger pointed at her friend's nose. "Since I told you; you've been throwing it at my face every chance you get!"
"I'm sorry, but it's the truth! He's an ass and I think you deserve better!" Katherine lashed out, herself.
"No, of course not! It's better to use your high school friend, Stephan Salvatore, as a fuck-buddy to relieve your sexual needs!" Caroline replied, perniciously.
"And what is wrong with that, Caroline? Stephan and I, when we are bored out of our mind we fuck each other. He's not bad at it." The brunette replied, angrily. "And at least, he knows one or two more positions in bed!"
Matthew slowly approached, stared for a few seconds; before so slowly sliding both of the ordered glasses of wine in front of both women: "Are you OK, girls?" He questioned, grinning.
"Yeah … We're OK." Katherine replied, with a smile and a nod.
"Thanks, Matthew." Caroline added, politely.
They stared at their glasses, rubbing their manicured fingers on them, before Katherine would speak again: "I'm sorry, Carebear… I've been so stressed and … Sometimes, I feel like I deserve so much more in my life."
"Of course you do deserve more!" He friend responded, truthfully; while grabbing both of her hands. "You deserve the moon, the sun and the stars."
"Aside from my fucked up career dream that will never rise from my position as a secretary. You never had this fantasy of being loved passionately?" Katherine questioned; while staring at her friend. "To meet an alpha man that would, with a single look, wet your panties. Before, crashing you to his bulged chest, while raising your trembling body in his arms, your legs wrap around his muscular hips?"
"Katherine!" Caroline exclaimed, redness filling both of her cheeks. "Lower your tone!"
"Fine!" She rolled her eyes. "Obviously, you never had that fantasy."
"I did not say that." Caroline rectified, shyly. "It's just what it is … A fantasy. It's something that you read in books, or you see in a movie with … I don't know… Bikers!"
"Bikers?" Katherine repeated, chuckling into her glass of wine. "That's a vision. You on a Harley with your peekaboo dress."
"It's PINK-a-boo!" Caroline repeated, under clenched teeth.
"Whatever Forbes!" The brunette rolled her eyes.
"Hey gorgeous!" A tipsy tall man approached Katherine at the bar. "When did you fall from the sky?"
"Get lost!" Katherine replied, unwavering; without a single glance in his direction.
"Oh come on! Let me buy you a drink and perhaps we could share more?" He implied a sexual intercourse between the two; while sliding his sight on her legs.
Katherine slowly turned her head to stare into the man's eyes, before so-slowly lowering her sight over the length of his body, before stopping at his crotch: "Sorry, your head is too big, and your dick … Way too small for my taste!"
The man whitened, before slyly replying: "You're too much of a bitch anyway."
"Tell me something I don't know already!" Katherine lashed out, while seeing him turn on his heels and leave.
"Katherine, seriously?" Caroline scolded her friend.
"What?" She shrugged, unaffected by the scene. "The guy is a jerk! I could smell if from a mile of distance, while he was undressing me for the past fifteen minutes, from his sitting position at the other side of the counter."
"I swear if you act this way in Mexico, I'll …" Caroline warned her; unable to finish her sentence.
"What? You'll buy me more Tequila?" Katherine suggested, winking.
Caroline chuckled, before replying: "Probably!"