Claire

It wasn’t like any regular chest. It was solid as a rock,  unyielding wall. It was packed with muscle,  wrapped in a black shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin. Warm large hands caught me by the waist. Through a drunken gaze, my eyes traveled up  to his face that refused to stay still. No matter how hard I tried to lift my brows, I failed to give him a quizzical look. Indeed, after attempting twice, I stopped altogether, yielding to the languor from the whiskey. But through the haze, I could tell he was tall, very tall, at least 6’4”. He had an angelic  jawline, I hadn’t seen one before but I swear an angel would look like this. His eyes were green with flecks of blue, sharp and mesmerizing. Through hooded eyes, I stared at his face and found a scar that ran from the edge of his brow to his temple.

“Sorry,” I murmured as my fingers inched upward, touching his face, gingerly  moving to touch the scar.

 He didn’t flinch at my touch. Instead he held me steady, his eyes lingering on my lips. A lock of his chestnut coloured hair fell from the rest hanging over his right eye gave him a roguish look.

“Don’t be,” he responded. His voice was like velvet, smooth and soft to my ears as a sardonic smile tugged at a corner of his lips. My eyes glued on his slightly plum lips. What would they taste like? He was not in a hurry to release me as if to give both of us time to read our thoughts. Someone once said the eyes are a doorway to the soul. At that moment, I realized how inappropriate it was to lay in his arms as if we were shooting a kissing scene in a movie. I wasn’t sure whether to back away or melt into him. The music continued to okay inside  me. Around us, people danced, but I was hypnotized, transfixed by his gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asked, finally releasing me gently, his hands steadying me at the same time. I hated that because the warmth from his arms had soothed an ache I had, one placed there by Ben’s treachery.

“Not even close,” I answered. It was honest and a little reckless, but it was the truth.

His lips curved into a smirk. “So do you want to be?”

I tilted my head to the side, gazing quizzically. “Are you offering me something? Perhaps an escape or a distraction? ”

“I would like to give you both,” he declared smoothly.

His green eyes pierced me, making my core clench. I didn’t turn away. I wasn’t a coward, and I wasn’t shy either. The whiskey in my veins was boosting my confidence. I liked the way his eyes didn’t move down my body like most men would. He was not like most men. His clothes were too expensive and made him stand out in the crowd. I knew because I read a lot of GQ magazines.

He wasn’t bothered by the fact that I was tipsy. It was like we were having a real conversation.

“What’s your name?” I asked finally.

He hesitated for a second and raised his eyes to the ceiling, then back at me. His gaze flickered with mischief. “Dante,” he responded.

I giggled and raised my eyebrows at him. “Is that your real name, pseudo?”

“It is for tonight.” He answered and I giggled again, loving where this was going. “Fine. I am Ivy.”

That wasn’t my real name, but he didn’t have to know that. I could play his game, because under these dim lights and in this space, truth was… subjective.

My handsome stranger, Dante, extended his hand to me. I took it without any hesitation. He pulled me to himself. I could feel his growing arousal. He wanted me, and I wanted him too. We danced wildly, recklessly, carelessly. We had this magnetic pull toward each other that made time stretch.  He was so close I could feel the heat of him. I forgot everything that had happened.  This was what I needed to forget. I  needed him.

He leaned closer, his breath brushing the shell of my ears,  I could guess what he was going to ask.

“Wanna get out of here?”

I paused as my core clenched again, my heart drumming a staccato beat. My rational mind could not reject anything coming from him. It was fuzzy and blurry from alcohol but still present. I barely knew this man. I didn’t even know if his name was truly Dante. What did I care? My mind was too tired to dwell in the “what ifs,”

 I didn’t want to be left alone tonight. I didn’t want to feel lifeless, useless, to be reminded that I was discarded by the man I loved. So I nodded.

“I just need to tell my friend.”

He nodded once, and as I turned to go to the bar, he followed behind. Maddie saw us coming and narrowed her eyes at me. I leaned forward across the bar and whispered something too low for the music to compete with. Maddie’s eyes moved from me to the stranger beside me, then back.

“Are you sure?” she demanded  with concern in her eyes.

I nodded, trying to make her feel better. “I need this, please, Maddie.”

Maddie didn’t argue. She couldn’t. I knew she wouldn’t. He hurt me so much, and she knew I needed to replace his memory. This was the only way.

She handed me a bottle of water before I could say anything else. “Text me as soon as you get to wherever he’s taking you. Anything weird, I’ll find you. OK?”

“You’re the best, babe,” I smiled at her.

As we exited the bar, Dante placed his hand at the small of my back, and I thought of what Maddie would think of that. Well, she was aware I was going to get laid.

The night air hit me so hard, it  sobered me up making my gaze sharp and my mind less fuzzy. As I inhaled deeply the cold air was sharp in my nostrils. It smelled of freedom and possibilities. Perhaps it wouldn’t smell like that tomorrow. Who cared? Definitely not me. I just wanted to get through this night.

He led me into a black car parked around the corner. It was clean, windows tinted darker than should be legal.

“Do you drive for a living?” I teased.

“Maybe,” he smirked.

I don’t think he was ready to give anything away, but I got into the car, which he held open for me. The inside smelled of leather and citrus, two of my favorite things. He entered beside me, cool, calm and collected, he turned the ignition. As the soft purr of the engine filled the car, I relaxed into the seat. He was like a safe place for the  night.

“Where are we going?” No matter how tipsy I was, I had to ask.

“The place I’m staying is ten minutes away,” he replied.

I nodded, not asking any more questions.

“Tell me something about you that nobody knows,” his tone jovial though he  wore a curious gaze.

“I used to think I was good at discerning characters. But today was an eye opener,”  I muttered, my tone flat and listless.

He grinned. “That’s dark.”

“It’s been a very dark day.” I whispered.

After that, Dante didn’t bother prying. We drove in silence for a while. I leaned my head against the glass, watching the world go by as we drove pass.

“Are you running from something? It looks like you are.” His words,  were crazy. How could he guess so much about me?

I turned to stare at him, not giving anything away, at least trying not in my drunken state. “Aren’t we all? We are all running from one thing or the other.”

He didn’t respond. I knew he probably was thinking about my response. But in no time, we arrived at the parking lot of an ultra modern building, security cameras everywhere. Dante stepped out first and then circled around to open the door for me.

I stepped out as well, but was a bit unsteady on my feet. His hand was instantly  around my waist again. Our elevator ride was silent. There was  that magnetic pull again. Although we were not saying anything, it hurled us together, neither of us letting go.

His apartment was on the last floor. This was the penthouse. High ceiling,  luxurious furniture, everything smelled of cedarwood and male cologne.

“You live here?” I asked, as if it wasn’t already obvious. Though he told me he was taking me to his place, I had to confirm.

“I do, actually.”

I could feel his eyes on me as I moved around, staring at everything, even those floor-to-ceiling windows. Hell,  the whole city could see the interior.

“Nice view.” I observed.

“Oh, that? It comes at a price,” he replied. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to be suave or if he was teasing me again.

“Doesn’t everything come at a price?” I asked, turning to face him. He handed me a glass of water and stepped closer to me.

“If you feel like talking, I will listen, I promise,” he offered.

There was something in his eyes. Something that hinted that he knew what I was going through. He knew about Ben’s betrayal. He knew what it meant to be afraid and abandoned. I took another sip of my water, then set the glass down. I walked toward him. The distance closed easily because he was two steps away. I reached out and touched his jaw, his perfect jaw, and he didn’t turn away.

“Thank you for tonight,” I whispered.

He leaned in and kissed me, slowly and deliberately.

He kissed me like I was the only woman in the world, like I was his, and like he was mine.  I kissed him back with equal fervor, his tongue doing an erotic dance around nine that made my core clenched tightly, if he kept at this, I swear I’d come.

His hands moved, exploring my curves. He cupped my breasts, gently kneading them as his fingers sent sweetness to my teats. They hardened into pebbles in his gand. I moaned into his mouth. This was going to be a wonderful night, and I didn’t want him to stop.