Part II ofGet to know Pixie, the cute noobie from our original Passing Zephyr series:
Her dark past haunts Murderer's Bar (and his shirt) a while before
Miss Cecile's Story begins the seduction,
the Sexy Bartender gives his two cents
while Miss Sweet observes them all.
Do you remember Pixie from Miss Cecile's Story? She's the shy noobie that gets pulled in to play with Sexy the bartender. She's in the midst of remembering life before Miss Sweet's and one fateful night out. Part 1 was posted last week. Part II continues here, with Pixie's sights set on a large man in the corner to satisfy her needs...
Throwing back the last of her iced tea, she slid off the bar stool and bounced her way towards his darkened corner.
The techno rock made the shuttering lights feel alive and, for a moment, she felt as if a whole drove of fireflies danced with her across the room. A pleasant high from the alcohol.
By the time she readjusted her brain back into reality she was less than a foot from the slouching giant.
Fear skittered across her shoulder blades as she took in the immense mass of him. He was easily twice as wide as her, and his arms could have been mistaken for thighs if you ignored the stripes of black ink encircling them.
Common sense wormed in past the alcoholic haze and had her stepping back before turning away. He was TOO big. She DID feel small. Very, very, small.
Before she could complete her about face, he raised his hand to... offer her a drink? A fresh long island iced tea glistened between his fingers.
Her eyes shot up to his and a smile flowed across his face chased by a wink. He had been watching her too.
Not used to the game, sudden heat filled her face and she fumbled for the glass in hopes it would cool her head and gain her a moment to think of something to say.
His fingers dragged across hers, damp from the glass, and ran down her arm before dropping off her elbow to rest on his thigh. A very huge thigh. The massive strength of which was barely concealed beneath his crisp new dark blue jeans.
She could feel heat flood her body again, but this time not just her face. Some women loved a man's tight ass or rippling abs, but she was all about the thighs. Damn.
She could just picture herself riding that taunt muscle. Her moisture soaking through the clean denim. Her heat branding his skin.
He caught her staring.
Of course he was watching her, she was in his personal space.
Of course he noticed the blush on her cheeks as she became transfixed on his bent knee. Gulp after gulp of iced tea doing nothing for her internal body temperature.
A soft growling barely reached her ears as that knee bent a little more and he widened his stance, just enough room for her to fit in between. His fingers kneaded that huge muscle and she finally found the courage to let her eyes travel up and up to meet his.
There was a darkness there, but she told herself it was the shadows in the corner, because there also was a hunger. A hunger she felt echoed in her own eyes.
His smile was still in place, despite her hesitant eye contact, and she found herself relaxing inch by inch. The alcohol must finally be working the stagnant anger about her ex out of her muscles, even though she had never had it feel quite like this before.
Perhaps the man lounging in front of her was to blame. For surely she had never had such a heady combination of strong drinks and a strong man all at once!
He swept his arm out to the side, inviting her into the circle of his body. The usual alarm bells were muffled in her head. The call of his strength and his sex overrode the access code and she melted against his chest.
The soft growl was back again, this time vibrating against her ear as his arms and legs closed around her. He encased her completely with the techno music as soft as a lullaby and the heat of his body her favorite down blanket.
And then she passed out from the drugs in his drink.
Come back next Saturday to see what Pixie has gotten herself into...