Well, despite the fact that I'm extremely busy, I'm starting to feel kind of guilty for not updating, so here it goes…
(NOTE: be prepared for drama!
-The usual disclaimer applies-
"You know I love you, right?"
She smiled, leaning into him and taking in his scent, "as I love you?"
She looked up at him, her emerald eyes piercing his heart. He had never felt this way before. She was making him feel all of these different emotions and sensations.
He brushed a stand of her fiery red hair out of her face and leaned in close, "more than you love me."
She beamed at him, his ice blue eyes clashing with her pure green ones. "Forever?"
That's what he had said to her the day of her graduation, and now it was years later and she wondered if it was still true. She took another sip of her martini and turned to look at him. He was off on the opposite side of the club, chatting it up with some skankily dressed girls.
"Fuck you, Grayson," she said as she stood up and laid a hundred on the counter in front of the bar tender.
"So, that's all for you?" he asked, giving her a grin that could melt most hearts.
She looked up, drinking in his sexy hazel eyes and killer abs which were clearly visible through the tight vest he was wearing, "I think so. If I were to have another one, I don't know how I'd get home tonight."
His eyes twinkled in the dim light and he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "well, I could always take you home with me."
She sat herself back down on the bar stool and crossed her legs, allowing her already short dress to ride up higher and higher. She gracefully watched as he prepared a nameless drink and set it on the counter in front of her.
"It's on the house," he said, leaning over and getting an eyeful of her exposed, luscious legs.
"Won't the owner get a little angry?" she purred.
Once again he flashed her a devilish grin, a few strands of his golden brown hair falling into his eyes as he looked up, "I am the owner."
"My great grandfather started this chain of night clubs, and here I am, heir to all twenty-five of them."
"Hmm," she moaned, debating in her head whether to act like a bitch or a slut, "so then you wont mind it if I do this?" she asked, picking up the freshly-prepared drink and dropping it on the floor, causing the alcohol to spill and the expensive, antique crystal glass—which she knew must have cost a small fortune—to shatter into a million pieces on the floor and gain the stares of several people in the club.
Looks like she chose to be a bitch.
He only smiled and brought out three more glasses, taking one and throwing it on the floor himself.
Her eyes glazed over as she shoved all of the glasses off the counter and then proceeded to sit on it. She swung her legs around pulled him close to her, him standing in between her legs.
"Tell me," she said, beginning to unbutton his vest, "do naughty little rich boys like to play rough?"
He grabbed her ass and hoisted her up so he was carrying her, "oh, rougher than you think."
She giggled as he began to take her into one of the back rooms when someone stopped them. "You know you can't do this."
She turned her head around and glared, "fuck you, Victor, you can't tell me what to do. If you're so concerned about someone getting hurt then be concerned for me and go tell Richard to stop hitting on those cheap whores."
Victor just sighed and shook his head, turning around and making a bee-line for Richard.
"Fuck," she said, "I have to go."
"Right. What did you say your name was again?"
She smirked, "I didn't."
"I'm Christo. Christo Markov."
She nodded her head, once again debating whether to be naughty or nice, "see you around, Christo."
She turned on her heel but was stopped as he grabbed her arm, "I still didn't get a name."
She bit her lip and looked up at him, "Korina. Korina Anders."
He smiled and gave her a sincere peck on the lips, "it was nice meeting you, Kori."
And with that she turned and swiftly walked out the back door—the last thing she needed was to see Richard tonight, she was already fucking pissed with him as it was. She knew as soon as Victor talked to him that he would be looking for her, and that was exactly the thing she was trying to avoid.
Gotham was a bustling city, very densely populated. It was most famous for its gargantuan skyscrapers, endless nightlife and of course, Olive Street. But aside from all of the glamour, there is filth, crime and secret under-ground society that specializes in hardcore drugs, powerful alcohol, and outlawed midnight passions. Almost ever way you turned there was a dark alley and filthy gangster idly minding his own business. Or, if things went as planned, other people's business.
Her bare feet stepped lightly on the wet asphalt ground. Delicate little drizzles had begun to fall and she smelled it. That scent…the one that you can only smell when rain touches the ground. She loved it. She loved it so much. More than her million-dollar designer perfume, more than her closets hardily stocked with Chanel dresses, more than him…
…almost more than him.
But not quite. She loved him too much. Way too much. Although she didn't know why. She had stayed up some nights pondering that question to herself, yet she could never come up with a straight answer…. She loved him for him; for who he was and the way her stomach always got butterflies whenever his eyes pierced hers. She could see into his soul, and she knew he loved her too. She loved him with every fragment of her being, but at the same time, she hated him. She hated him for the way he was and the way he treated her at times. She hated the way some days she could look into his eyes and justknow. She knew. Every time he pulled that shit, she knew. And she hated having that power. She wished she could just turn around and never look back. But in the end, she missed getting lost in his eyes. And no matter how hard she tried to say that she had the power to leave him, she didn't. She loved him too much. She could never leave him. He had that certain power over her, knowing that she needed him, because in truth, he was a part of her, and without him, she wouldn't be whole. She would never leave him, even if she wanted to. And he knew it.
A flash of lightning made heart jump and the hair on the back of her neck to rise. She was so stupid! What was she thinking leaving the club by herself?! And late at night too, taking the back alley ways so that Richard couldn't find her. But he probably wasn't even looking for her anyway. He was probably off in a suite, fucking some chick's brains out. And oh, how that thought bothered her.
Her skin all of a sudden was covered in goose bumps and cold sweat, and it wasn't the thunder this time.
"Hey pretty lady. Where're you off to so late at night? …dressed like that? …alone?"
Her breath hitched in her throat and she could feel him smiling to her back. He was just to the left of her, and she knew what her fate would be if she didn't run. Her mind raced as he approached, and in a second, she darted off, sprinting to first place that came to mind. She could hear his footsteps as he sprinted after her, and prayed that she still knew the way.
I stared at the ceiling. Thinking. About what, I had no idea. But I was thinking. The brunette moaned and adjusted her sleeping position, curling up next to me. I looked down at her and her face annoyed me. She was pretty, but for some reason, looking at her made me want to scoff and turn away. By tomorrow morning, she'll be just another figment of my imagination and she'll go around bragging to all her friends about how she was a whore for the infamous Xavier Red. She'll get her name in the paper, a couple VIP entrances to some fancy clubs, and a few more lays by some rich men, but that's about it. Yet its still funny to think how that seems to make their lives. Kori would never do something like that…
And then I was back to thinking, but this time, about her. And I didn't know why! Hell, I had just fucked a very attracted woman, and I was still thinking about Kori. It was seriously beginning to exasperate me.
I cautiously slipped out from under her grasp, making sure not to wake her, pulled on the nearest pair of boxers, and made my way over to my study.
It was my favorite room. Dark, quiet, serene. Perfect. I sighed and poured myself a glass of brandy. Maybe I was only thinking about her because I'd just seen her…
A startling knock interrupted my train of thought and caused the crystal glass to slip from my grip. I whipped around, only to see a sight I would've never expected in a million years.
There stood Korina Anders. Standing on my fire escape, frantically knocking on my window. Drenched in rain. …wearing that snug little black dress…
I rushed over and opened the window, allowing her room to climb in. I turned to her with question in my eyes, but all it took was for me to look down at the back alleyway and see a figure begin to walk away.
At a delicate sneeze I turned my attention back to Kori was standing in the middle of the room, looking like she was about to die of hypothermia and fright, and yet still managing to look utterly amazing.
Damn, how does she do that.
"X…I'm so sorry," she started, fumbling around for her words, "…I…I didn't know where else to go…"
Her emerald eyes looked up at me, and she looked so lost and confused that it made me just want to hold her in my arms and never let go.
"Here," I said, "lets get you changed before you get pneumonia or something..."
She giggled and rolled her eyes a bit, "oh Xavier, always looking out for my safety." She smiled, a weak smile, but still a smile. "I knew I could count on you."
"Kori, anytime. You know you can count on me for anything." I watched her smile grow and then fade away, and I realized that I had been staring at her. "Oh! Umm, hold on, I'll go get you a shirt…"
I rushed to my bedroom and it smacked me right in the face. The brunette was still here! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I ran to my closet and grabbed an old sweatshirt. If Kori saw her, it would prompt her to leave, and I definitely didn't want that. I quietly walked out and gently closed my bedroom door and headed back to the study.
"Here," I said as I handed her the sweatshirt and took a seat on the leather sofa.
She gave a smile of appreciation, and began undressing.
She peeled the soaked dress off her body and stood there.
I could see everything. Her breasts were perfect, her skin was glowing, and the intricate lace on her thong…
Everything. It was perfect. She was perfect. And before I knew it, I found myself up next to her, pressing her naked chest to mine and kissing her like I had always wanted to do. And the strangest part of it all was, that she kissed back.
For a second the thought of all this being an illusion crossed my mind, but I pushed it out just as quickly as it had appeared. If this was a dream…I was liking it.
I was hard. And I knew she could tell by the way she pushed herself up against me more and tucked her fingers into the rim of my boxers.
I had no idea what she was doing here. I had no idea what I was doing! But it felt right, and I couldn't care less. I kissed her again, and watched as lust grew in her eyes. I loved her. I had always loved her, and I wasn't afraid to admit it anymore. I didn't care if Richard was her boyfriend. I didn't care if my sister was her best friend. I didn't. They weren't there. It was just she and I. And nothing was going to stop us.
I love her.
And I was just beginning to wonder…
My fingers trailed down her body, stopping at the opening between her legs.
…exactly how wet was she…
and I didn't wait to find out.
Omg, I'm sooooo sorry guys for not updating in like, a lifetime!
Review Review!! I'd like to know what you think