"Do you wanna have sex with me?" I trailed my fingers up the tailored suit of the man seated next to me.
"Excuse me?" he asked, turning to me.
I smirked. "I noticed you've been staring at me for a while now."
The music from the bar and surrounding chatter faded as I stared at him. His Adam's apple bobbed as his gaze rested on me. He looked nothing like Drake. Exactly what I needed.
"Well?" I asked, my fingers caressing the rim of my glass.
He looked reluctant, his piercing blue eyes darting away, as if somewhat shy. I grabbed his black tie and pulled. He smelled like sandalwood and I inhaled deeply.
His fingers rested on my exposed thighs to avoid falling off the high stool. My gaze fell on his lips, they looked full and inviting.
"Do you wanna go somewhere quiet?" I asked.
I wasn't usually this forward, but the alcohol gave me courage. I needed to get Drake out of my head, even if that meant sleeping with a complete stranger.
I caressed his collar, my nails digging into his neck. His shaky breaths fanned my ear sending chills down my spine. It was supposed to be Drake and my three-year anniversary, but there I was---in the blue dress I'd picked specifically for him because he liked the color blue---making advances at a total, yet strikingly hot stranger.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
His fingers grazed my thigh, hitching higher and setting my body on fire.
"I can be quite rough."
It sounded like a warning and I should have heeded it, but I was too damn pissed at Drake to be logical. All I wanted was to forget the pain in my heart, the anguish at the sight of my fiancée bedding my roommate on our anniversary.
I flashed a card, my lips curling up. "I have an empty room upstairs."
It was the room I'd reserved two weeks ago, to celebrate our anniversary and bask in the pre wedding glow. Turned out I was going to use it after all, just with a different man.
"Let's go then."
He grabbed my hand and my purse and stood up. I hesitated, wondering if I was making the right choice. The searing image of the both of them flashed through my head, pushing me ahead.
If he could do it, then so could I. We walked to the elevator, his hand clamping down on mine. I waited until the doors closed before jumping on him.
He tasted like whisky; my fingers grazed his hair as I pulled. He moaned in my mouth, his hands on my waist to steady me. I grabbed the wall for support and I held his neck. He nibbled on my lower lip, and without waiting for permission, bit gently on it.
I moaned loudly, allowing his tongue to swallow mine. His hands cupped my butt, just as the door opened and I sprung away from him. I smiled, walking backwards as I flashed the card again. He picked up my bag and walked out the elevator slowly, his eyes on me.
"Come on," I teased as I swiped the card on the door.
He pushed me in, flinging the bag on the floor as he held me in his arms. He grabbed my neck, pushing me to the wall. His eyes were glazed with lust as he stared at me.
I pushed him away, enjoying the way he looked at me with those eyes and zipped down my dress slowly.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Less talking, more fucking."
There was no need to exchange names since I had no plans of seeing him after that night. All I needed was a few minute distraction to pull me away from the ache in my chest.
The dress fell to my knees; he bit his lip as he stared at my almost naked body. I'd bought the blue lacy lingerie to match my blue dress for Drake. It was a skimpy lingerie, one that showed more than it hid. I walked towards the bedroom slowly and smiled when I heard his footsteps behind me.
I turned on the lights and paused.
Shit.
I stared at the rose petals on the bed, the champagne in the ice bucket, the flowers and the roses and the balloons. And finally, as if those weren't embarrassing enough, the 'HAPPY ANNIVERSARY' written in red lipstick on the mirror stared back at me, painfully reminding me of the three years I'd completely wasted on Drake Wallace.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, at the crazed woman who glared right back. I couldn't recognize the girl in front of me, the one who watched me with scorn as if making fun of me.
The man paused as he glanced around the room.
"Uh…"
I grabbed the champagne in the bucket and reached for a glass. I poured the drink, watching as the bubbles reached the rim and downed the whole thing.
I ignored his gaze as I poured another drink.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"I didn't bring you up here to talk," I snapped.
"Touche." He reached for the second glass. "Pour me one?"
I raised a brow and he smiled. "I didn't get to finish my drink earlier."
I said nothing and filled his glass and mine. I emptied the glass and dropped the bottle back in the bucket. I had a high tolerance, but I didn't drink. Drake didn't like women who drank, so I went three years without a drop of alcohol.
Three years sober for a man who couldn't keep it in his pants.
Fuck Drake.
I grabbed the stranger's glass of champagne and drank from it. He watched me silently, looking amused.
"Shut up," I said.
He chuckled. "I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to," I walked closer to me and stopped, a few inches away. "Your eyes say it all."
I paused, my gaze moving down his tailored blue suit. It looked really expensive. My gaze flitted to his watch, it was a Rolex.
He was rich. Like extremely rich. It reminded me of Drake, who I so desperately wanted to forget.
"Really?" He closed the gap between us, his chest resting on my breasts. "What do they say?"
I grabbed his tie. "That you wanna fuck me."
He held my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. "And then what?"
I slowly unbuckled his belt, my eyes never leaving his. "Why don't you show me instead?"
He leaned closer. "Gladly."
He pushed me onto the bed, and removed his jacket. I watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his ripped abs. Drake didn't have abs like that, no, he was a skinny bitch. I couldn't believe I stayed with him all these years.
The stranger's chest was bare and smooth, exactly as I liked it. I'd asked Drake to wax off his chest hair numerous times but he'd refused, saying that was what made him a man. I'd changed a lot of things about myself during the years we dated, but he had not shown me the same respect.
I should have known.
The stranger pulled down his pants, leaving his briefs which was a short and flimsy material that exposed every inch of him. Every inch.
"Fuck," I muttered, when he got on all fours and crawled towards me.
I'd only ever been intimate with Drake. I'd held on the belief that I was going to lose my virginity to the man I would someday marry. The irony made me burst out laughing.
He paused, eyebrows furrowing. "Are you okay?"
I couldn't stop laughing, even though my heart was breaking to pieces. Even though the image of Drake burying himself in Lindsay, my roommate was seared in my memory, even though his moans as he came inside of her echoed in my head, I couldn't stop laughing.
He stared at me like a screw had gotten loose and maybe he was right. Maybe I was going crazy. My wedding was three weeks away, and I was in a hotel room about to have sex with a stranger after catching my fiancée sleeping with another woman.
Oh, Aria.