Strangers

Ryan

The bar is dark, lights dimmed so low that every person looks like a shadow before your eyes adjust to the darkness. This is exactly the place I was hoping to find. It is private, as dark as the heart beating in my chest. No one is going to try and get to know me here. No one is here to try and learn the name of the person they take home. When you come into a place like this, it is with the purpose of have one night of mindless fucking, and nothing more. No names to be exchanged, no life story to share. No one here wants to know where I came from, what I have seen, what I do for a living or what my plans are for the future. Exactly what I need.

I head straight to the bar where the majority of the lighting in the bar comes from. I order a whiskey and take a seat, looking around the room. I spread my arms out against the bar, letting the people around me know through body language that I am open, approachable. I don’t want to go chasing down my prey, I want them to come to me willingly. I know it won’t take long. I know exactly what women see when they look at me. The tattoos are the first thing that captures their attention. From my fingers, crawling up my arms, up my neck and ending just before it reaches my face. From there, my black hair and blue eyes usually bring them in without any effort at all from my side. The fact that I spend hours in the gym, can kill someone with barely any effort and exude danger, that is like honey to a bee. I am the guy they want to fuck and go home to tell their girls about. I am their night on the wild side, and best part is, I don’t even have to say a word to get what I want, but it does often help to push them over the edge to no return.

“If you think that you are going to get any women to come near the bar, you are mistaken.” The voice is made for sex, husky and heavy with a Russian accent. When I turn to look at the figure coming out of the dark corner, almost as if she is appearing from nothing, I know I have exactly the prey I want for the night. She looks like night, the black dress she has on is hugging her figure in a way that shows you every curve, yet doesn’t show you enough. Her black hair is swept over one shoulder, hanging all the way down her waist in thick curls. Her eyes are nearly black, but that could be because it is so freaken dark in here. Her body is made out of muscle, packaged in a slim but powerful body. Death, that is what she reminds me of and if I was a lesser man, I would’ve run, but instead, I am intrigued.

“Why is that, sweetheart?” I ask her, giving her my full attention. No point in showing anyone here that I am available anymore. I have found the woman I want in my bed, no one else will do.

“That would be because I am here tonight.” She says simply, and that should put up warning signs, should make my gut tell me that this woman could be dangerous, but tonight, I am here to ignore my gut feeling. As an undercover cop, I have spent most of my life listening to my gut feeling, relying on it to keep myself alive, but tonight, I refuse to overthink every encounter. Tomorrow, I will be the cop that everyone expects me to be. Tomorrow I will worry about staying alive. Tonight, I want to be reckless, without morals or rules.

“You scare them?” I ask with a teasing smile. I am not scared, I am fascinated.

“Most can tell when danger is near. It seems like you have no concept of danger. That, or you are looking for it.” She says, while the bartender is handing her a martini without her having to say a word. I assume that she is a regular, or she owns the bar. Whatever the reason is, it is clear she has power here and people fear her for that power.

“I chase danger, it is part of my job.” I tell her, saying more than I probably should. I am new in the city. I was transferred to the L.A. police department because I have a specialty to blend into horrible crowds. I have been going undercover in gangs since I was twenty and still fresh out of training from the defense force. I have a talent for making the worst of the worst trust me before I stab them in the back and rip their entire operation to shreds. I am called the grim, because I come in and I leave only death and destruction behind when I come out. I save lives, but I do it by killing, destroying and corrupting my own soul.

“Ah, a cop.” She says, a smile that sends a chill down my spine, playing over her lips.

“I could just be an adrenaline junky, for all you know.” I tell her, but I know there is no use in trying to pretend like I am not a cop. I am one of the best, that is why I was called in. Starting tomorrow, I will no longer be Ryan. I will have a different name, my age will be different, my history will be rewritten, all to fit a profile to blend into the darkest parts of this world.

“You could be, and I assume you are, but that is not your job description. Not that I care what you do for a living. We both know where you will be spending your night, and hopefully in the morning, you will be gone, and I will never see you again.” She says, stepping between my legs and running her blood-red nails put my thighs. I am instantly hard, her scent making me desperate for a taste of her. She smells like roses and something metallic. The scent of roses fit her perfectly, all beauty with thorns.

“You sound so sure. What makes you think you won’t be the one leaving my room?” I ask her, but she only smiles, her eyes so dark that the light reflects off it. She leans close, and for a second, I think she might kiss me, but then she moves to my ear, biting on my lobe and sending a shock wave of pleasure down my spine.

“Because my hotel room is better that anything you will ever be able to afford.” She says, and I chuckle at that. Her confidence would be a turn-off to most men, but to me, it is like a drug. I want more and for the first time, I wish I wouldn’t have to walk away in the morning, even if I know that is exactly what I will do. I can never bring anyone into my sick and twisted life. Any woman that spends more than one night with me is in danger. I can’t allow my private life to mix with my work life, and unfortunately, I am married to my job.

“Lead the way then.” I tell her. She doesn’t waste time, simply takes my hand and then leads me out of the bar. Everyone that stands in our path to the door, parts like the Red Sea and I see the envy in the eyes of men and women alike. The men want her, but none have the balls to walk up to her. The women wish they were her, but they know they will never be close to her league. What am I getting myself into? Heck, the only thing I know is that the hunter just became prey, and I am a willing sacrifice.

Besides, she can’t be that dangerous if she is willing to take a cop to her bed. Right?