CHAPTER ELEVEN
1352 Words
I look into some blue beautiful eyes. Probably the most beautiful I have ever seen but wait.
What’s wrong with this place? Is it a place for breeding handsome guys only? This is the third guy I have met. By third I mean the handsome guys.
And?
He is mean and rude. I can tell by the way those blue eyes are glaring down at me right now. His brow creases and he swirls the drink in the glass he is holding, looking me up and down.
I become self-conscious and look at myself, noticing something wet on my thigh. That’s how short my dress is.
But wait!
How come I hadn’t noticed or felt the wetness on my legs?
Yeah, right.
How could I have noticed it with me drooling the guy over? I like how his pants hang down his waist.
Fuck!
‘Concentrate Lexi. This is not the time!’
My subconscious screams at me making me look at the wetness on my thighs again. Is that vodka or whiskey? I can’t really tell. I look at his eyes, which are still glaring at me.
“Are you done?”
“Done with what?”
“Ogling me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Good because you should watch where you are going next time.” He says rudely.
“You don’t have to be rude. I’m sorry but you also spilled your drink on me.”
“That’s because you weren’t watching your slutty steps and bumped into me.” He snaps.
“Slutty you say!”
“Yap. How do you explain that short dress? It just covers your ass. Barely even. That’s how sluts dress.”
I hate Danny for this. Someone remind me to kill her later.
“I’m not a slut.”
“Are you trying to convince me?”
“Not at all.”
“I see what’s happening here. This is a new way to pick up customers from clubs. I'm not one of them sweetheart. Keep looking.”
“I’m….” but then, he leaves me there talking to myself.
Ugh! I scoff and walk to the washrooms. I pick some tissues and wipe my legs, cursing the son of a b***h.
Slut?
Is that what I look like?
I walk to the mirror and adjust my dress, pulling it a bit down, but it doesn’t solve anything. It’s still the same size.
“Wow! I love your dress.” I turn to see a brunette smiling at me.
“Really? This dress? Isn’t it slutty?”
“Not at all. That’s the way to rock it here.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.” She smiles and opens the door, stepping out.
It’s a beautiful dress and I’m all curvy in it. To hell with blue-eyes. He doesn’t have a say in what I wear. He is not my dad so he can go screw himself.
I walk out of the washrooms and head for the table. I make out a new figure, whose back is turned on me. Another friend?
I reach the table and Chase stands making a way for me. I sit and look up into the same blue eyes.
What?
What is blue-eyes doing here? Is he one of Chase’s friends? He raises his brow and recovers immediately, trying hard not to glare at me.
“You have met Rick, Kate and Amber baby,” He starts introducing us. “This is Mr. Crawford. He is my boss. The CEO of The Exotic and other places.” He pauses. This is Lexi.”
“Lexi? I see.” He doesn’t attempt to smile. “I prefer Ted. Mr. Crawford is so formal and this is an informal setting.”
“Yeah, sure.” I can tell that Chase is a bit uncomfortable. I thought he was the owner of Exotic. So it’s Mr. Blue-eyes here.
“So, is she your girlfriend.”
“No.” I’m quick to answer.
“We are trying to make it work though.” Chase says making everyone look at me with questioning eyes. I feel weirded out so I take a sip of water and swallow heavily.
“I will go back to my friends and see you all on Monday.” He addresses the rest. “Great night Lexi.” He says dryly and walks away. I watch him walk to a bunch of guys who he says something to and they look in our direction laughing.
What an ass!
“Having fun?” Chase whispers in my ear.
“Yap but I’m all fuzzy. I feel drunk.”
“Wanna go home?”
“Yap. I will call a cab guy.”
“You don’t have to. You can sleep at my place.”
I'm too drunk to argue so I nod getting up. Nothing bad can happen to me. I'm with someone I like and trust.
“We are going home.” He announces taking my hand in his.
“Bye guys.” I don’t know who says that.
“I don’t like her.”
That I know. It must be the Amber chick but she can go to hell, just like Emmy is supposed to.
********
I wake up with a start and look around. Chase is staring down at me. That’s not love in his eyes. That’s lust and it makes me uncomfortable.
“Morning?” he smiles reaching out to give me a kiss. I allow him to but feel nothing. This isn’t right. Was it just a crush? Does it mean I’m over it.
“Morning too.” I get out of bed and walk to the dressing table, where my 'slutty dress', as blue-eyes called it is hanging on the chair.
“Wanna stay and make out?”
“Not now. I have to get home. My friend must be worried.” I change into the dress with him looking me up at down. This doesn’t feel right. I should be shy in front of him but I’m not.
“Are you sure? I want you so badly.” He steps out of bed and walks towards me. He runs his knuckles on my bare arms making me shiver. Not in a good way but the kind that one is freaked out.
“Not now.” I say as calmly as possible.
“Why not? Do you know how I have been waiting for this to happen?” he is angry.
“Let’s take it slow?”
“Slow? Do you have an idea how many women want this? How many want me to bang them?”
“I’m sorry I can’t.”
“I will tell you. Remember Amber from the club?” he doesn’t wait for my answer. “She is all over me. She literally throws herself at me and you want to pass that opportunity.”
“I’m sorry. Not now.” I take my purse from the dressing table but he pushes me throwing me on the bed.
“Sorry doesn’t solve this boner!” he shouts pushing my dress up. “We are doing this the easy way, or the hard way!”
“Stop!” I shout but he slaps my mouth making me scream in pain.
“No one will hear you slut! You shouldn’t have made it hard.”
I have to move fast. He is going to r**e me. I can do something. I reach for his face and dig my fingers on it, scratching him hard. He yelps and gets off me making me run for it.
“Come here b***h!” he shouts running after me. I dig out a pepper spray and spray it in his eyes when he nears me. I run for the door, leaving him screaming and scratching his eyes and luckily, it is unlocked. I storm out and run, stopping at a distance.
I hear an approaching car and stop. A black mustang stops next to me and the driver opens his window.
“Are you okay?”
Oh God! You have to be kidding me!
- Writer
