In the Air (The City Book 1) - By Crystal Serowka Page 0,19
out of me. If she only knew how much control she actually had, she could easily have me begging just to be near her.
What a fucktard. I mean, who comes to class hung over on the second day?
After the confrontation with Samson this morning, I'd decided to make my night an enjoyable one. I really needed to get away from all of the pretentious assholes at Juilliard, so later that evening, I hopped on the train and headed to more familiar surroundings. It felt good to be back on my stomping grounds, even though I'd only been away for a couple days. Tonight, I had on my red "fuck me" skirt, my black bustier top, and my favorite leopard print high-heeled boots. To most people, I was sure I looked like a streetwalker, but I'd never given a shit about what people thought of me.
When I walked into The Commodore, the best bar in Brooklyn, I saw my favorite bartender manning the bar. He made the best drinks and because he wanted me, he made mine extra strong.
"Well, if it isn't Kingsley in the flesh. I haven't seen you around these parts in awhile." Brad looked me up and down, mesmerized by what he saw. He'd been trying to get into my pants ever since he first laid eyes on me two years ago.
"I started school a few days ago. It's crushing my soul." As usual, the bar was packed, and I grabbed one of the last stools near the end of the bar. "I need a shot."
I started coming to this bar when I was sixteen. Young, I know, but I had a lot of older friends.
The first time I showed my fake ID to Brian, the doorman, he looked at me and started laughing. "This is obviously fake, but since you're hot and will probably attract some customers, I'll let you in. Don't make me regret this."
My beautiful relationship with the bar grew from that day forward.
"Jameson?" Brad held up my favorite brand of whiskey. When it came to liquor, he knew exactly what I liked.
It was only 11 P.M., but the bar was packed from wall to wall. After my third shot, my soul reappeared. With liquor in my system and the high I got from the music blaring from the speakers, the day's stress vanished quickly.
"Hey, pretty thing. Can I have your name?" A voice asked from behind. I could already tell by his lame pick-up line that he wasn't going to be a looker. I turned in my barstool and saw that I was right.
"Why? Don't you have your own?" I asked, annoyed. I started to turn back around, but he grabbed my arm.
"Sassy and beautiful. Where have you been all my life?" With the way this man was slurring his speech. I hoped Brad had already cut him off.
"Hiding from you." My eyes stared icily into his. "If you don't let go of my arm, I will remove it. For good." I angled my eyebrow up at him, daring him.
His grey eyes glossed over as he looked at me scornfully. "Well, aren't you a rude young lady?"
"If I throw a stick, will you leave?" With my question, the sorry bastard accepted defeat and walked away with his tail between his legs.
"Nice way to deal with an asshole. Maybe you should write a book."
The voice was gorgeous. I detected an accent, but couldn't pinpoint it. I turned to my left and saw a guy, leaning against the bar. His hair was dark, almost black, neatly styled, reminding me of the 50's. He had tattoos peeking out from under his shirt. I was practically salivating.
"Maybe I should. Only if you promise to buy the first copy." Biting my lip seductively, I waited for him to look up at me. When he finally did, his eyes were dark and mysterious.
"Would you autograph it for me? Write a special note inside?" His smile widened when he took me in. His eyes traveled up my legs, over my chest, and finally onto my lips. When our eyes locked for the second time, a tremor ran through me. I wish there was a fan nearby. I need to cool myself off.
"Anything you want." I licked my lips slowly, which attracted his gaze.
He held out his hand to me and I noticed the tattoos across his fingers spelling out love. He's sexy and romantic? What have I done to deserve this?
"My name is Wren. Can I get yours, pretty thing?" He