Disclaimer: None! Fairy tales are public domain, baby!

If you enjoyed this story and it's companions and want more... We are currently adapting these stories as Audio Dramas! So, you can hear Jeff, Tessa, and everyone else as these stories are woven together in an on-going radio play! And it's not just what we have of these stories, oh no... The audio series will go above and beyond what's on these pages. We're very excited about it and thought we'd share this with our readers who have been so supportive and patient with us.
For more information, please visit pendantaudio dot com and please have a listen to the other shows as well, the people at Pendant Audio are so multi-talented and their shows are very entertaining! (And you may hear me and Parsley acting in them, as well!)
Happy listening! Angel Sentier


By Angel Sentier and Lady Parsley

Chapter One

Tessa knew the drill. It was down to her and the guy at the end of the bar who had been pounding shots all night. Shots that had come back to him from other girls with a polite, "no, thanks." Now that it was just the two of them, soon he would look at her and think to himself, 'Hey! At least she's breathing,' and he would send her a drink. The universal invitation for "Let's me and you screw."

God, if it wasn't for beer goggles, I'd never get laid, Tessa thought. Self-described as the official "cock-blocker" within her group of friends, she had two jobs when they went out. First and foremost, was to intercept all undesirable and unwanted advances by the mere mortal men who dared approach the trio of goddesses. She would send back drinks, or make idle chitchat with the men deemed "icky," until they got fed up and walked away. Eventually, the Triumvirate would decide on some escorts for the evening and leave Tessa alone.

Her second job was to make her friends look better by contrast. Her flat ash brown hair was usually pulled back into a simple ponytail. Her clothing was oversized and layered, adding more puff to her already pudgy figure. A round face that hardly ever saw make-up made her look younger than her twenty-nine years. Her mother had told her since she was six that she would have the looks of a 1940's movie star, if she could just manage to lose thirty pounds, lose her glasses, and lose her smart mouth.

The guy at the end of bar rose a bit unsteadily from his seat and, swaying a bit, walked toward a jukebox beaming multi-colored lights into the relative darkness of the room. Tessa watched the guy brace himself with his right hand on the jukebox and nearly press his nose against the selection window. He was like that for a long while; so long, in fact, that she suspected he might fall asleep that way.

"If he starts to dance, I'm going home," Tessa said, perhaps to the bartender, but more to the open air.

"No shit. I might just follow your example," the bartender said. "By the way, he said to give you another of whatever you were drinking. So..."

"Sure," Tessa said, almost absently. "An iced tea."

"Long Island?"


"Are you sure? He's buying."

"After all the drinks he's bought tonight, let's save him the cash."

Her drink was brought to her and she turned to raise her glass to the guy. She found him still propped up against the jukebox, with his left hand this time, smiling at her. He wasn't painful to look at. Dark brown hair in long neat waves, pulled back to the nape of his neck and fastened with a black rubber band. From fifteen feet away in the dark, she couldn't discern the exact color of his eyes, but she could see the lust in his half-lidded gaze a mile away. At the unspoken suggestion, a giggle escaped her; until the music stopped her cold.

A motorcycle engine revving became a driving drumbeat and a guitar joined in a moment later. Judging by the guy's face, this was not his selection. This was even more clear when David Lee Roth screamed out, "Oh, yeah!" and the guy toppled backwards, falling to the floor. The rest of Hot For Teacher played on. Tessa laughed and made her way over to the guy.

"Hi there," she said, offering a hand down to him. "Need help?"

"Uh, yeah, thanks," he said, grabbing her hand and standing up. "My name's Weylan."

"Ouch." She winced. "Why did your parents hate you?"

"Well, my friends call me by my middle name."

"Which is...?"

"Jeffrey. Well, Jeff, actually."

"So, which is it? Weylan or Jeffrey or Jeff?"

"Just Jeff."

"Okay, Just Jeff." She smiled wryly. "Good choice."

"Yeah. So, your friends ditched you, huh?"

"Look, they left with some other guys. No, you can't have their numbers, and no, I won't bring your number to them." She rolled her eyes and turned to gather her purse and coat. If this asshole wasn't going to at least put forth the effort to pretend to be interested, she wasn't going to stick around. However, before she could get more than two feet away, he grabbed her hand.

"Hey, don't go. Look, I'm sorry. I just thought it was pretty shitty of them to leave you behind."

"Sure, you do."

"If I brought…"

"Please, don't say, 'If I brought you, I wouldn't leave you behind.' It makes you a liar and me a charity case. If I'm going to talk to you, I'd like to do it without the cheap clichés. No offence." She watched his reaction to her gentle chiding. At first, it seemed like he might get angry, stomp off, and sober up. Instead, he smiled.

"Okay," he said, as he laughed. "No cheap clichés. Could I get you a cup of coffee, or something?" She raised an eyebrow at him and he groaned. "That was a cliché, wasn't it?"

"I'll let that one slide. You already bought me a drink," she said as she motioned to the iced tea. The bartender was in the process of clearing it away and Tessa made no motion to stop him from doing so. She watched as a warm smile spread across Jeff's face and found she couldn't look away. A gathering heat spread in her chest, quickening her pulse as that heat began to pool in lower regions of her body. Despite her jaded defenses, she blushed.

As the current song ended, he turned back to the jukebox, slipped in another quarter and punched two more buttons, all without letting go of her wrist. Tessa knew the song instantly; it was commonly referred to as I Want to Fuck You Like an Animal, although the actual title was Closer. An appropriate sub-title, as the beat mimicked the act. If there had been any doubts in her mind as to Jeff's intentions, there were none now.

His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist, quickly gaining her attention.

"Dance?" he asked.

"To this?"


"Not as a habit."

"Come on..."

"Why? Are we at a wedding?"

With one tug, he pulled her closer. Now she could see the color of his eyes, brownish-gold. He traced the contour of her face with the backs of his fingers.

"Dance with me." A direct command.

Something turned her brain to mush. "...Okay."

He needed no further prompting. In one motion, he released her wrist and slid his arm around her waist; with his other hand, he tilted her hips to fit against his. Then he began to move.

Though Tessa had said that she would leave if he started to dance, she was forced to silently retract that statement. While Jeff wasn't a polished or accomplished dancer, he had one hell of a way of conveying what he wanted to do to her, were they anywhere private. As the song continued, she began to doubt whether the lack of privacy would deter him for much longer, considering the liberties he took.

He tilted his head down, dragged his lips slowly back and forth across the place where her shoulder met her neck, then inhaled deeply. Tessa's hand reflexively clenched in Jeff's shirt.

"At the risk of sounding... you know... Why don't we get out of here?" His breath was heavy and warm on the back of her neck, a heady mix of tequila and clove cigarettes. Intoxicating, in its own right. Something about this guy was primal, animalistic, and kind of sexy.

Don't forget, he just wants you for tonight, said the constant voice of reality. Odds are you'll be home in half an hour.

"I'll get my coat," she nearly whispered, strangely out of breath, as she pulled away far enough to look him right in the eyes. Her heart began to race, not totally from excitement. Something about Jeff made her feel like a rabbit trapped by a wolf.

"No, no. Let me get it. Which one is it?"

"The puffy red one with the hood." The statement sent an odd chill up her spine.

To Be Continued...