ROXANNE
By the time Roxanne finished her third glass of Blue Label, she was already half in love with the man sitting next to her. Her heart hammered against her chest, pushing her forward, forcing her to make all the mistakes in one night. Her mind, bathing in alcohol, had no means or power to stop her anymore.
The kiss still lingered on her lips; beguiling, inviting, seductive. A mistake waiting to happen. An attempt at happiness in this cruel, loveless world.
Roxanne looked at the dancefloor, where her favourite friend ground her ass against Andre's crotch shamelessly, ignoring the disgusted glances thrown her way.
"Don't look at your friend." Damien said. "Look at me."
Roxanne listened, getting momentarily lost in the depths of his eyes. She wanted to come with him, but she wasn't the type to have one night stands. No, she was too quick to develop feelings and casual sex just wasn't a part of her vocabulary.
But judging by her overall luck in love, it was safe to assume she might have been doing something wrong. Everyone's always left her, despite her trying to be the best possible version of herself in every relationship.
Drunk, desperate and resentful, Roxanne took in a sharp breath.
"Let's get out of here."
Damien grabbed the bottle of Blue Label in one hand and offered another to her. Roxanne accepted, her heartbeat picking up the pace. What would Mike say if he saw her right now? What would Addison say if she saw her right now?
Brenda stopped dancing for a second once she noticed them leaving the booth. Her intoxicated gaze widened, she offered a lopsided grin and raised her thumbs up.
Roxanne rolled her eyes and approached her friend, "Are you going to be alright?"
"Oh, yes." Brenda shook her ass to the music. "I'm having the time of my life. What about you?"
Roxanne swallowed the excitement, "I'm gonna get out of here."
Brenda looked at Damien, "Alone or...?"
"Not alone." Roxanne whispered.
Her friend grinned, "Good girl."
Damien took his wallet and his leather jacket, and they walked through the front door, leaving the bar's hazy atmosphere behind them. The thick, summer air slammed into Roxanne, the smell of rain lifted off the asphalt, and the streets seemed to radiate heat. She had hoped she would sober up once she left the bar, but the air outside pushed her deeper into drunkenness.
Mind forgotten elsewhere, Roxanne followed the man she's met tonight into the cab. The moment the door closed, his hands wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers.
Intoxication and adrenaline made her ignore the cab driver in the front seat. Her palms trailed over Damien's muscles, all the way to his face, where her fingers entangled into his soft hair. His lips felt rougher against her soft ones, his touch devoured her, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs excited her.
Too soon, her drunken mind tried to shout, but his touch silenced it. Roxanne's heart beat in her temples, her fingertips, and her throat, loud and almost painful.
Roxanne could not tell how long they've been making out in the cab, but once the car stopped in front of a boxy, modern building, she felt giddy and delirious; high on the stranger's kisses.
Damien opened the door to the lobby; a clean-cut, white hallway, with pristine staircases and cameras blinking above their heads, and led her to the elevator.
Roxanne threw her hands around his neck and pulled him closer. His tongue darted across her lower lip and she let out a sigh. Pinned between Damien's body and the elevator wall, Roxanne wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him even closer.
Damien cleared his throat and laughed, "We're here."
"Sorry." Roxanne giggled and put her legs down.
Damien took her hand and led her to his apartment. A large area opened up in front of her. The living room, the dining room and the kitchen were connected, the space bigger than her entire apartment where she still lived with her parents. A pang of jealousy bit her veins as she took in the view.
The apartment's large windows, covering the entire eastern wall, overlooked the city underneath. Roxanne glanced out, enjoying the feeling of standing above the flickering streetlights and the busy traffic.
Damien threw his jacket on the black leather corner sofa and put his keys, wallet and Blue Label on the glass coffee table. Roxanne watched him as he strolled to the dark-wood kitchen; clean and barely used, and pulled out two whiskey glasses from the top cabinet.
"Make yourself comfortable." He said and disappeared through one of the white doors, probably the bathroom.
Roxanne sat on the couch, the leather glued to her naked thighs, cool against her skin. Her gaze skittered across the flat screen across the sofa, the huge, black stereo next to it, and the picture frames resting on the shelves above it. Roxanne stood up and approached the pictures.
Smiling faces awaited on each picture; Damien surfing on tropical islands, Damien dressed in a ski gear, snow-covered mountains behind him, Damien visiting strange, exotic places. He's seen the entire world. Every picture showed him with different people, all smiling widely at the camera.
Once he exited the bathroom, he approached her with two glasses of whiskey.
Roxanne laughed, "I can't believe you took the bottle from the bar."
"What can I say? I'm living frugally."
"Where is this?" Roxanne pointed at the picture of Damien with a surfboard, surrounded by a group of children.
"Waikiki, Hawaii." He answered, his hand gently wrapping around her waist, "I spent a summer there teaching kids how to surf."
Roxanne's eyes widened with surprise, "Really?"
He didn't struck her as a man who spent his summers doing something like that.
"Uh-huh." He nodded. "I'm a surf instructor over summer and a ski instructor over winter."
"Yet, you say you're unemployed." Roxanne laughed.
He shrugged, "I get bored quickly."
"Probably because you can have whatever you want." Roxanne shut her mouth the moment the words slipped out, but it was too late.
Damien squinted, "Do you ever think before you speak?"
"I guess not." Roxanne stepped away from the pictures with a sigh. "I've had a lot of trouble in school because of it, to be honest. My teachers hated me."
She sat on the couch, finding herself wanting to prolong the conversation.
"Well, my teachers hated me because I was a pretentious douche. Your excuse is better, at least you spoke your mind." Damien sat next to her and draped his arms over the backrest.
"There's a difference between speaking your mind and spouting out every bitchy thing that comes to mind." Roxanne shrugged. "I once called my English teacher a 'frustrated cat lady' because she wouldn't allow wearing short skirts to school."
Damien laughed out loud, "You probably weren't wrong."
Roxanne smiled tightly, wondering would he say something else if his tongue were as loose as hers. Her inability to keep her mouth shut caused a lot of trouble later on, especially once she tried to find a job. The only reason her current boss hired her was because compared to him, she was a suave wordsmith.
"Can I use your bathroom?" Roxanne stood up, her head slightly spinning.
"Sure." Damien glanced behind him. "The second door."
Roxanne rushed to the bathroom and shut the door behind her, eager to splash some water on her face and question her life choices. The dark, luxurious bathroom stood out compared to the clean-cut, modern living room and kitchen. Roxanne sighed at the sight of the Jacuzzi bathtub, filled with massage jets and comfortable, body-shaped seats.
The light above her threw a shade over her drunk face. Roxanne opened the faucet and drank some water, hoping it would sober her up. Gosh, this was a bad idea.
She wanted it. Of course, she did. Damien was insanely handsome and his eyes promised a very good night, but she'd be doing it for all the wrong reasons. Deciding she might not go through with it after all, Roxanne took our her phone, wanting to call Brenda.
However, the phone was already ringing.
Mike's name flashed on the screen, startling Roxanne, causing a jolt deep in her heart. Her eyes widened, heat trailed up to her temples; angry, burning heat. Her finger shook as it hovered over the screen. He hasn't called in a month, despite the fact she called him almost every night since the break up. He's never answered.
Roxanne took in a deep breath, threw her phone back into her white purse and exited the bathroom. Damien stood in the middle of the living room, biting his lower lip.
Roxanne threw her hands around his neck and kissed him deeply, her mouth opening against his, inviting his tongue inside. Damien's hands wrapped around her waist and he pulled the dress up, revealing more of her thigh. Her belt dropped on the parquet with a thud and Damien's hands trailed to her thighs, gripping her buttocks. Excitement spiked through her body, drowning all thoughts, lowering inhibitions. He bit her lower lip, hard, then planted a small kiss, silencing her whimper.
Roxanne found the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, revealing his chiselled body. Damien's lips left hers and dropped to her neck and her collarbone. Roxanne's knees turned wobbly, but his strong hands held her up, gripping her flesh tightly, leaving marks across her skin.
His touch was rough, aggressive, but it was exactly what she needed. Nothing tender or gentle would do tonight. Damien grabbed the hem of her dress up and threw it on the floor. Roxanne's heart pounded in her chest as the man lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, revelling in the rough fabric of his jeans pressing against her skin. He carried her to the kitchen counter and pulled her bra down, until her boobs peeked out. He took her nipple in his mouth and sucked while his hand fumbled with his belt.
Roxanne threw her head back, her core throbbing with need, her mind turning hazy. Her hands trailed across his chest and his stomach, feeling the hard muscles under her fingers. Damien pulled his pants down, gripped her butt and pulled her to the edge of the counter, his erection pressing against her panties.
A shudder slid down her spine and a needy, wanton moan escaped her lips. Damien shushed her, taking his lips between his teeth. The need she hadn't felt before overwhelmed her as his fingers hooked the band of her panties; the need to be devoured, ripped apart, used for all her worth. The need to have this piercing pain in her chest forgotten, outshined.
Roxanne glanced between their bodies, swallowing a huge gulp of air once she saw his size. Damien rolled a condom on his girthy length. He pressed against her opening, his lips once again trailing to her neck.
"Ready?" He whispered against her skin.
Roxanne nodded and gasped once he entered her. Her body stretched around him, accommodating to his size, and pain coursed through her; sharp and sweet and blissful. Waves of pleasure rippled through her, fuelled by his rough hands gripping her skin and his length tearing her apart, almost as if he wanted to become a part of her.
For a moment, nothing but the two of them existed, nothing but their sweaty, entangled limbs and blissful aggression. Damien's fingers slid between their bodies and he pressed his thumb against the sensitive nub between her thighs. Roxanne forgot about everything.
She forgot about her shitty relationships and her fucked-up life choices as the pleasure peaked, rippling through her body in strong, exhaustive waves. Damien's erection stiffened within her, pushing her higher and higher. She could barely hear the screams and short, shallow breaths that left her lips.
Damien planted a small kiss on her collarbone, grabbed her buttocks and lifted her off the counter, still throbbing inside of her. Roxanne pulled at his hair and bit the soft skin under his ear.
"Where are we going?" Her voice was nothing but a whisper as he carried her away from the counter.
Damien chuckled, "I'm going to fuck you in the bedroom now."