Chapter 2: Passion-Filled Night

She watched as Trevor walked out of sight. She wished he could walk out of her lfe in the same way. Then she felt Alan's hand still over hers.

"Thanks for your help," she said as he sat on the stool beside her. Then she slowly withdrew her hand.

"Who was that?" he inquired.

"Just some crazy guy," she said and when he raised his eyebrow to signify that he didn't believe her, she added. "My crazy ex-boyfriend."

"Seemed the boy is not over you yet," he said and chuckled.

She scoffed.

She was also not totally over him.

She watched as Alan told the bartender to get the exact drink she had ordered earlier. She also ordered another round.

"You drink a little too much than is expected of a woman," Alan commented.

"And just how much is a woman supposed to drink?" she asked with a wry smile.

He smiled and took a sip.

"Gimme more," she said after she drowned the second bottle.

The bartender popped a bottle and poured into a glass. Alan reached forward before she could and pulled the frothing glass to himself away from her reach.

She chuckled and reached for his own glass. He pulled it away from her reach also and drained the content.

"You took my drink away and you won't let me have yours?" she asked.

"You're drunk already, Christine. You can't have any more drink," he said and for effect, panted a wet kiss on the back of her palm.

"Let's dance," she slurred.

He looked at her, doubtful if she would be able to.

"Come on," she pressed and tugged at the sleeve of his shirt.

As she dragged him to the dance floor, she could tell he allowed her, as he was not someone you could just pull around anywhere you wanted.

His hand went around her waist as soon as they were on the floor, and he pulled her closer to himself so that her breasts crushed into his chest.

She placed her arm over his shoulders and brushed her lips on his and all over his face. She turned her back and her ass pressed against his bulging cock. Then she began to swing her hips, moving sensual in rhythm to the music. He leaned into her and she felt his warm breath on her neck as he whispered.

The noise from the music was too loud and it drowned his words so she didn't hear them. But she caught snatches.

"...dangerous play...nice time..."

The alcohol had taken over her.

She felt his breath in her neck again and his lips brushing her lips. And this time, she heard the words clearly.

"Say, how about we get out of here, go to my place for a nightcap and maybe I can eat you after that and get my face between your legs," the stranger asked her in a whisper, his lips caressing her earlobe.

This wasn't her. She wasn't normal. The alcohol had clouded every part of her, taken over her senses.

Usually, she would not be out at night, let alone in a club midtown. And here she was, swinging her hips to a man in

And a man she barely knew!

She suddenly felt him pulling her along and she followed past the crowd of partiers and out of the club.

She suddenly felt my back against the wall and his lips were all over hers again. She moaned as he sucked her lips with his tongue. Then he let go gently and they continued their walk till they got to a red Mercedes Benz. She got in and the soft leather caressed her back making her comfortable.

She had not even the slightest idea where they were headed.

But it was a night to be wild, throw caution to the wind. She didn't care.

............

He handled the car deftly and brought it to a stop in front of a mansion.

"You live here?" she echoed as she stepped out.

"Welcome to my humble lair," he cackled, opening his arms wide like an emperor showing off his splendour, welcoming an important guest.

She stepped out and just as she was about to take her first step, he swept her off her feet and into his arms in a bridal style.

"Put me down. I can walk," she grumbled and pounded his chest with a weak, drunken fist.

He didn't listen. He took her in his arms up the short flight of marble stairs and as soon as he was in the expansive living room, he set her against the wall and resumed the kissing bout.

She was drunk. Intoxicated by the alcohol she had taken and drunk on her passion. In the few minutes she had met him, she loved him like she knew him all her life.

He sweeped her into his arms again and went up the stairs. He kicked open a door and dropped her on the bed. He got on top of her and stared into her passionate eyes.

"Fuck me," she said with a groan and pulled at his hair.

"I will," he said it like a sacred oath.

.........

She yawned as she sat up on the bed and stretched. Her hands stopped mid-stretch and her eyes widened. The first thing she noticed was the manly arm over her breasts and her clothes gathered with a man's in a heap in the corner of the room. Then her eyes scanned the room. No pink curtains or posters of Billie Eilish and Lady Gaga on the wall. Instead, a king-size poster of Mohammed Ali in action. And the curtains were a royal blue.

She brought her hands to her head as she suddenly felt a sharp throb. She was hungover.

She noticed the man in bed beside her and her hands flew to her mouth in horror as flashes from last night came rushing like a floor. She raised the bedsheets which half covered her and peered in. The slimy liquid on her thighs confirmed her fears. They had had sex.

They had met in the club and she was drunk. She had caused it. She was drunk. She started acting up and led him on, seduced him.

She had to leave before he woke.

She slowly took his hands from her naked breasts and got out of bed.

She picked up her clothes hurriedly but found them torn when she tried to wear them. It took all she had to resist groaning and cursing out loud.

She didn't have much time. He could wake up any moment. She walked to what looked like a walk-in closet and luckily she was right. She took the first shirt her hands reached and put it on. She had no underwear on but the cloth which was rather too big easily made for a gown. She also slipped on a pair of his flipflops and took her stilettos in her hand.

She walked on the tip of her toes and stopped when he groaned in his sleep, hoping he had not seen her. She opened the door carefully without a creak and got out. Luckily, her purse was lying on the couch so she just snatched it and flung the door open.

As soon as she was out, she hailed a taxi and hopped in. The driver drove, humming to a fast rock which reminded her of the previous night. He halted a few meters away from her house and thanked her as she handed him the fare with a little tip. Then she staggered along the terrace and fished in her purse for the key.

It was one hell of a night.

She was feeling a little hungover and all that was on her mind now was to sleep it off. But as she opened the door and turned on the lights, she stopped in her tracks as her eyes fell on the person inside.