OBSESSED with my future husband

A Beautiful Siren

Brandon

As soon as I entered that seedy bar I knew that it wasn't a place for me. It was too cheap for me. I was about to turn around and retrace my steps, but then my eyes found her. A siren. Clad in red top that showcased the upper swells of her breasts and lots of cleavage, with the shortest shorts I had every seen which had her long legs on display, she had me frozen in the spot. And then there were those silver shiny stilettoes, completing her sexy allure.

A hooker.

A well earned hooker by the looks of it.

As my gaze trailed back up I met bright blue eyes looking back at me set on a oval face with soft features that was hidden behind a layer of makeup. She arched a light brown brow at me, silently questioning. I looked away first, there was something unsettling about her, unsafe. And yet, there was something familiar too.

Once again my eyes found her, this time she was laughing at something the men sitting beside her said to her. But I could tell the way her eyes skittered on their forms that she was just playing, like one played with her food.

The lights were dim and something compelled me to move forward. I was just two steps away from the trio when I heard the man say, “What say butterfly, care to join us both. We’ll show you a great time.”

My jaw tightened, my fists clenched, I didn’t understand my body’s response, but there it was… an unsettling feeling. When I looked at her, her blue eyes flashed just for a second before she pasted a beautiful smile on her face and looked straight at me. “Care to join us?”

It took me a few seconds to realise that she was asking me that question. Lust and disgust rolled in my stomach. She was more beautiful from this close. Not her curled blond hair, not her blue eyes. But her full lips, the hollow of her throat, slope of her shoulders and that creamy expanse of her upper breasts and something else…. Something that I couldn’t pin point at that moment. “I don’t share.” I answered, and turned away from the siren to motion for the bartender. “A whiskey.”

As I waited for my order to arrive, I sensed her moving closer to me. Her fragrance, sweet and exotic was potent as it engulfed me. She raised her hand, and her smoky voice filled my ears as she ordered for herself. “One scotch. Neat.”

The bartender, a hunky bald guy, looked at her and ignoring the men he was serving on the other side of the bar came, he quickly made his way toward her. I was the one who ordered before her but still he poured the golden amber liquid for her first. “Scotch, for my beautiful lady.” The bartender slid the glass in front of her, smiling at her in a suggestive way, undressing her with his beady eyes. And a sudden urge to punch his face came over me, shocking me.

Unlike the way she was smiling at the other two men who were still looking at her, her lips remained flat as she looked at the bartender and without batting her lashes, she said with enough stiffness in her tone that had the bartender frowning at her. “I am not your lady.” Her eyes flickered sideways toward me as she added, “Or anyone else’s for that matter.”

I couldn’t help it, I added, “You just invited me.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She turned to look at me, and it was like a blow to the gut. From this close I catalogued, every feature and nuances of her face, every dip and curve of her body. She was a siren alright, but there was something else about her. The way she held herself, the way she looked down at the men around her, even though she wasn’t more than 5’4 herself, like she was surveying her peasants and what she saw didn’t please her in the least. “But it might have something to do with the way, you were and are still eye-f*****g me.”

Caught.

A new kind of thrill entered my blood stream and I looked up at her the same way I looked at my opponents in the underground. But apparently my glower didn’t have the desired effect on her as she merely arched that finely plucked eyebrow back at me. “Was I?” I questioned back and then picked up her glass from the countertop where it sat untouched. “May be. But I usually don’t f**k the woman I have to pay for.”

She flinched just barely, but hid it well. Her eyes on the other hand, narrowed to dangerous slits as she looked at me, from my Louis Vuitton to my unruly dark blonde hair, before dropping down once again on my throat where the top two buttons of my shirt was unbuttoned. She leaned a bit closer, her fingers closed around my wrist, almost freezing my insides from the heat that curled through that point of contact. Her gaze lowered to where our skin touched as if she felt it too, but then she collected herself, threw back her shoulders which gave her breasts a jerk forward and my eyes riveted to that creamy expanse, before I realised what she was doing. She freed her drink from my grasp and then in one big swallow downed it. She didn’t even flinch from the burn of the drink and I watched the work of her throat, somehow sexy and provoking. And then she spoke, pulling me out of the lusty hole in which I had descended. “It’s probably good, you wouldn’t be able to handle me, Prince Charming.”

Prince Charming.

I was the king of the underground, not a prince. And I decided then and there she would be a spoiled princess to be sacrificed at my altar. I leaned forward, closing the remaining distance between us, my breath feathered across her red siren lips, her blue gaze lowered, but not before I caught a glimpse of a brown behind it, I shook my head, thinking that like every other time my mind was playing tricks on me. “I think it’s the other way around, princess. I like to get freaky with women like you. And that’s why I prefer virgins.”

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