Page 30 of The Blue Rose
Exiting the car, I make my way to the bar, when I walk in there is no sign of her. Not until I walk closer to where the books are and see her sitting on one of the bean bag chairs immersed in a paperback.
She is dressed in light blue skinny jeans that show off the supple of her legs and a black fringed crop top, exactly what she told me she was wearing. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and looks to be straightened as well. She has subtle makeup on, only her bright red lipstick standing out in the dim light of the bar, and my cock twitches at the thought of those lips around it later.
I reach down to adjust myself, shaking my head from the thought. I may have broken two rules already, but sex is out of the question.
I stand there staring at her, and within seconds, as if sensing me, her eyes land on mine knocking the breath from me.
She closes her book and walks over. “Hey,” she says in the sweetest of voices.
Her voice is like a siren calling the sailors to their death. If I was a sailor I would jump ship with just one word, letting her drag me down until the darkness enveloped us. Getting lost in the darkness together would be an easier death than I probably deserve.
Enveloping her in a hug, I surprised both of us and whisper, “You look beautiful.” I see the blush creep up her neck as I place my hand on the small of her back, and walk us to a high top table.
I pull out her chair for her, earning an eyebatting and a “Thank you.”
Pulling her chair out, I rest my cheek against her and whisper in her ear, “What can I get for you, little lamb?” My breath on her skin makes her shiver, which only excites me more. I trace myfingers along the goosebumps on her neck, mesmerized by the way they enlarge with every touch.
She turns, our faces so close I could kiss her. She’s breathless staring at my lips, hers parting ever so slightly, and the rise and fall of her chest is quickening. “Moscow Mule,” she whispers in a raspy voice.
The way her lips form an ‘o’ at the end of saying mule has me giving her exactly what we both want. My lips crash against hers, taking the breath from us both. Her mouth parts ever so slightly, allowing my tongue to slip in. I grab the back of her head, tipping her head back and a small moan escapes her. We break apart and I look down, noticing our kiss smudged her lipstick. Swiping my thumb across her bottom lip, I use the excuse of fixing it to brush my fingers against her soft skin. “I’ll be back,” I whisper against her lips, all she does is nod, looking dazed from our kiss. I walk away and head to the bar to order our drinks, a smirk stretching my lips.
She’s playing right into my trap, everything is going according to my plan, with a couple hiccups of two rules broken. Now if only my dick would get with the program.Why do I keep kissing her?I can’t seem to keep my damn hands off of her. No matter what, she'll be another one of my lambs for slaughter and I’ll never have to think about her ever again. The hold she has on me will disappear when she does.
I get up to the bar, and see it’s a female bartender this time, mumbling while cleaning up a spill about how Gary no showed again and pissed he’s left all this on her.If only she knew, he would never come in again. She’s blonde with her tits hanging out of the deep v cut black band t she made into a crop top so short her under breast can be seen, making all the guys at the bar look her way. Everyone, but me, I have eyes only for my little lamb. She notices me right away and struts over, making her breast bounce with her. When she gets to me, she places herelbows on the counter, and twirls her hair. “What can I get’cha, handsome?”
Looking back at Serena I say, “My girl would like a Moscow Mule, and I’ll take a Manhattan.” She looks over my shoulder at Serena and with an ‘I’m better than her’ smile says, “You should ditch the chubster, I can make it worth your while.”
The fuck did this bitch just call my little lamb?
Lowering my gaze, squeezing my hands on the counter to keep from choking her, “She has more curves than your stick-self could ever dream of.” She scoffs and turns away “Insult my girl again and that will be that last thing you ever do.” Her eyes shoot into her hairline and she rushes off to make our drinks. She comes back a few minutes later and places the drinks down with shaky hands and walks swiftly away.
Not even going to apologize?I don’t usually kill women who look like her, except on my birthday. I make that exception, but that isn’t for another three months. The bitch can live another day, I don’t want to hunt in the same place twice. They’ll be looking for Gary soon, if fake tits were to disappear they’d shut the place down and question everyone. I’m careful, but my lamb has my mind swimming in chaos and I’m not risking getting caught to kill on her behalf again.
I grab our drinks and walk back to our table, setting Serena’s in front of hers. I watch her take a drink, and she watches me over her glass.
“Do I have something on my face?” she says, swiping her finger across her lips.
Watching the movement, makes me have to adjust myself, “No, I’m just admiring your beauty.”
Her eyes follow the action, squirming in her seat. “You must say that to all the girls to get in their pants.”
“As I recall, I was already in yours, and plan to be again.”
Her eyes meet mine, “Is that so? You’ll have to try harder this time, I’m not so easy you know.” She sits back and crosses her arms, a smug pout on her lips.
Crossing my arms, I lean over the table, “Guess that means I have to try harder then.”
That earns me a playful smile. “I guess you do.” Now she leans in closer, arms still crossed, her breasts laying on the table, and I can’t help looking at them. “Like what you see?” I growl my approval. “As much as I’d love a repeat of last time, maybe in a bed this time, I think we should take a second to get to know one another better.”
I never tell anyone any nitty gritty details of my life even if they ask, but with her I find myself wanting to tell her everything. Maybe it’s because I know our time together will end soon, and I want her to know more about me than any of my previous lambs. Which is strange, but I’m ignoring the little voice in my head and start talking.
“What would you like to know, little lamb?”
She smiles, her cheeks heating with a hint of a blush. “First, why do you call me little lamb?
A chuckle escapes me, “You haven't earned that information yet, but you’ll find out soon.”
“Okay,” She draws the word out. “What do you do for a living?”
