s t r i k h e d o n i a

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"I am yours. Even in this waiting, I am yours."

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"I can't believe I let you bring me here for a meeting

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"I can't believe I let you bring me here for a meeting." I remarked exasperated as I downed my drink all at once.

I looked over the chaotic club where music was blasting and myself attracting the attention of both ladies and men who were envious of me.

I was accustomed to the unwanted attention and lustful looks, but sometimes a man just wanted to head home and pour himself a drink—preferably a bottle of good wine instead of a glass—especially in situations where I was trying to block out thoughts of a particular person.

A good book and absolute silence for me to wallow in with it sounded good as well.

"Yeah, well, you need to loosen up. What can I get you? One of those?" Sawyer smirked, gesturing at the nearly naked women who were eyeing me lustfully when I scowled.

"No, just get over with it." I said, scowling, when he raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright, jeez, boss man, loosen up. I'll be right back, I have to take care of something. Feel free to have fun without me." He winked my way and ran away before I could slap his face.

Leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes as I felt a headache coming on, I placed another drink order in an effort to block out the intrusive thoughts of a certain blonde-haired someone who had begun living rent-free in my mind.

As soon as I had my drink, I leaned back and took a slow sip while allowing my gaze to travel over the newly opened club as individuals moved about wearing ridiculous clothes and vibrant masks. 

Sawyer could not have come up with a worse theme. A fucking masquerade. But on the other hand, at least nobody figured out who I was, so there's something.

My eyes wandered over the dance floor, watching people grind onto each other, dancing carelessly, when I nearly spat out my drink at the sight in front of me as I straightened up in my seat and stood up to take a closer look.

It was her.

She was actually fucking there. I looked at the drink in my hand, noting that it was half empty, and thought I might be hallucinating.

Yet as she danced with her friends, the longer I stared at her, the harder it became for me to turn away, and I realised she was very much a real person.

She wore a white, silky dress that clung to her in all the right places, but it was too short, in my opinion, given how many men were gawking at her behind because it only came to mid-thigh.

A sparkly silver chain hung loose from her hip, moving along with her body, and erotic images flashed through my head at the thought of her in nothing but that chain hanging off her hips.

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