Chapter Text
The bar is much too overcrowded, but she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t mind the blazing lights, the sweaty bodies pressed together, the music vibrating every bone in her body. She can feel the man behind her, pulling her hips into his. The way his breath warms her skin as he whispers sexual promises into her ear. His lips kissing against the pulse point beneath her ear, sucking slowly while she presses back into him. She can feel his erection pressing against her ass, feel him growing harder. She knows she turns him on.
And honestly?
She’s bored.
She turns around, excusing herself to the bathroom. He knows she won’t be back, so he moves on.
The crowding bodies prove to be a challenge. She tries to squeeze her way through them, but they won’t move. She tries shoving them but it proves equally fruitless. Everyone is absorbed in their feelings-- no not the emotional kind. The kind where there’s a sensory overload in a crowded bar and you’re trying to commit every type of feeling to memory. Where you want to remember the feeling of your palms against someone else’s body, mapping them out through their clothes. When you want to know how your mouth feels dry but water can’t quench your thirst. How your ears can only focus on the deafening music and the bass turned up to shake the floor-- you can’t even hear the grunts and moans of couples dirty dancing. Who are you grinding on when it’s so dark and the strobe lights do little to highlight their features. Why does the smell of booze and sweat excite you when any other day would prove disgusting.
However, she doesn’t really care for any of that right now. Her goal is set on something else, and that’s getting to the toilet. Finally pushing past enough people, she arrives at the first stall, only to find it locked and occupied. She walks over to the second door and it swings open.
No one ever talks about how orgasmic it really is to piss after having to hold it in.
Upon leaving the stall, she takes a moment to look at herself while washing her hands. Her loose curls are straightening out, cascading over her shoulders, but the flyaways are all over. She looks like she might’ve been fucked five minutes ago, but in all reality, she’s just having a good time. The makeup is a bit rough around the edges, but she looks even sexier now than when she left her house. Her skin is flushed and glistens from the sweat, giving her a glow. The gold, hoop earrings she wears make her feel utterly sexy and incredibly confident. Her lipstick is faded so she reapplies the red shade, smacking her lips as she glances herself over one time.
The low-rise jeans hug her ass perfectly and the red tube top she wears matches the stilettos on her feet. She’s surprised she’s worn the devilish shoes for so long; normally she’d be aching to take them off. But something about tonight is different. And she hopes it’s in the best way.
Reaching into her back pocket, she grabs out her wallet. Quickly checking the stalls to make sure she’s alone, she reaches into the wallet, pulling out a small bag. It’s clear with a small press-seal at the top. Within sit two pills: one is blue and the other is a cream white. She knows she should only take one… but she feels greedy. She takes them out of the bag, swallowing them dry. Looking in the mirror once more, she feels like the sexiest woman alive.
Swinging the bathroom door open, she’s reminded of where she is. A bar. On a Friday night. Alone. Just because I arrived alone doesn’t mean I need to leave alone.
The floor seems to have calmed down because it’s much easier to move. How long was she gone? Walking over to the bar, she makes sure to sway her hips, hoping to attract the attention of anyone that happens to look her way. Reaching the bar, she leans against it which pushes her breasts up. She waves down the bartender, taking a quick glance around the bar.
And she sees the most beautiful man.
He’s not even looking at her, all she can see is his profile. From what she picks up, he has dark, brown eyes. The hair on his head is slightly disheveled as if he’s had a long day. His eyebrows are full and dark, just like the mustache sitting above his lips. His lips… they’re puckered around a cigarette while he inhales. He removes the cigarette, holding it between his index and middle finger. His fingers are long and think… the perfect for--
“What can I get a fine thing like you to drink?” Looking in the opposite direction of the very beautiful man stands another man, except he’s not nearly as beautiful. Eyeing him up, she realizes that this is the kind of man who wouldn’t care about her pleasure, but if he’s offering a free drink, she’s not one to turn it down.
“Shot of tequila.” She’s curt and she wants to get back to looking at the beautiful man. The man standing before her is tall and he towers over her. He has a big build with wide shoulders and jacked arms. His hair is dark just like the eyes raking her body. He wants her and while she can’t deny his attractiveness, she’s just not interested.
He orders two shots before turning to look back at her. He’s smiling wide, “So what are you doing all alone?”
“I’m looking for some company.” The bartender places the shots down and they both grab a glass. He raises his glass as if to cheers, but she’s quick to down the shot.
“Wow look at you,” He quickly downs his shot, placing his glass down next to hers. He places down cash next to the glasses for the bartender. It happens to be way more than what the shots were worth, but maybe he’s just a generous tipper.
“Honestly, thanks for the drink,” she quickly pats him on the shoulder as if he was a dog being praised. “But you’re really not my type and frankly I’m just not interested. So go find someone else.”
His eyes widen, quickly going from hurt to anger. “Well fuck you then, bitch.” He spits the words as if they actually bothered her. If she was a few years younger, more naive and intimidated, she might’ve retorted back. But now? She really doesn’t care because she knows who she is… And that’s the baddest bitch in all of Laredo.
He storms off, not giving her a second glance as he walks onto the dance floor. She turns her head, automatically looking to the spot of the beautiful man. Her smile drops to a frown, quickly realizing he’s gone. Her heart drops, there go my plans.
“You know, it’s not polite to stare,” she turns her head so quickly she almost gives herself whiplash. Standing beside her is none other than the most beautiful man on earth.
“You know, it’s not polite to sneak up on people,” she smirks. Up close, he’s much more of a sight. She can see the crow’s feet adorning his eyes and the way his lips press together to hide his smile. She’s got jokes.
“Well, if I catch a beautiful woman staring at me, I have the right to ask why she’s staring, right?” It’s his turn to smirk as his eyes brazenly look her up and down. His pupils are blown wide, dark with lust as he nearly undresses her with his eyes.
“I’m just admiring a beautiful man.”
He’s taken aback by the response. Never in his whole life had anyone called him beautiful. Normally he would be opposed to it, but the way she says it and looks at him while saying it makes him soft.
Clearing his throat, he waves down the bartender asking for a refill. “You want anything?” He looks at her, and a smile adorns her face.
“Whatever you’re having,” she replies nonchalantly.
“So what are you doing here alone?” She asks once the bartender leaves to get the booze. He leans against the bar and it’s just now that she notices how tight his button up is. How low it is. She can see his chest, the show of his collar bones. She wants to tough him, feel his smooth skin and lick along his collarbone. She wants to move lower and--
“I’m just trying to have a night out,” He pauses as the bartender returns with their drinks. He takes a small sip before continuing. “But I don’t think neither of us really care about why we’re here.”
His voice gets deeper. And this time when she meets his eyes, he looks like he might just take her right there if he could. The heat that pulls between her legs is overbearing and she needs him.
“Well, I’m here to dance. You should join me.” It’s all she can say before raising the glass to her lips. Whiskey. Neat. It takes her a few gulps to take it all at once as if it were a shot. Meeting his eyes, she licks her lips, collecting the remnants of the whiskey. His eyes follow her tongue and the thoughts that fill his mind are anything but pure.
She turns on her heel and walks towards the dance floor. She knows his eyes are on her ass so she does her best to seduce him to her. Bodies begin to crowd around her the deeper she goes, so she stops and turns around. He better be watching. She begins to sway her hips to the beat, running her hands up and down her body.
That’s when it all hits.
All at once.
Painfully.
Blissfully.
Suddenly the beat is slowed down and the lyrics sound like they’ve been reverbed. The lights are more intense and she’s suddenly aware of the key differences between the blue, red, and green. The sweaty bodies around her seem to fade away. Except for one body and it’s coming for her.
She blinks and she sees him standing before her, towering over her much smaller frame. His eyes are even darker and now he’s the one licking his lips. His lips are on hers when his hands fall to her hips.
She takes a second to react but slowly falls into him. Kissing him. Normally, she doesn’t care for kisses but maybe it’s the molly or maybe it’s him-- but his lips feel like heaven. They’re soft on hers but harsh when he sucks on her bottom lip before biting it. His hands are tight on her waist, which haven’t stopped swaying to the beat.
He pulls from her, causing her to pout. “Hermosa, don’t look at me like that.” He releases his hold on her hips and she suddenly feels cold. No part of his body is on hers. And the room feels really cold despite all the bodies around them. She physically aches being so distanced from him. He’s looking at her, trying to read her. But she’s somewhere else. She’s gazing into his eyes but she’s not seeing him.
“Dance with me.”
She turns around, his gaze setting a fire deep within her core. Either she’ll end up ripping off that damned button up in the middle of the dance floor or she’ll end up melting to the ground with how hot he makes her.
Backing up into him, she feels his chest against her back and the mere touch of him calms her nerves. Grabbing his hands, she takes note of how dry, calloused, warm they are before placing them on her hips. His touch is much softer now but equally as welcome.
She begins to sway to the beat, feeling him slowly move as he gets into the rhythm. Arching her back, her ass begins to press into him. His hips push even harder against hers as they sway side-to-side, feeling the music in their veins. His head falls to the crook of her neck, bring his hand up to swipe her hair to the side, giving him access to the soft skin on her neck. Placing his hand back on her hip, he makes sure to grip her tighter, pulling her impossibly closer.
His breath fans over her neck, setting her nerves on fire. He’s teasing and she can’t stand it, especially considering the fact she can feel his erection growing against her ass. His lips slowly graze her skin, close enough that she can feel how soft his lips are but she wants more. Doing her best to entice him, she grabs his wrists, guiding his hands up her torso. His touch is featherlight with his fingers slowly tracing her curves. She doesn’t quite let him reach her breasts because if he’s going to tease her, she’ll tease him right back.
When his hands are once again gripping her hips, he pulls her closer. In this battle of teasing, he caves and begins to grind his hips into hers while simultaneously nipping and sucking on her pulse point. She’s putty in his hands and she’s craving the friction on her ass. She pushes back against him, grinding against his cock. The clothes serve as a barrier, preventing their desires.
“Baby--” He nearly growls it while she moans out at the feeling of his lips harshly sucking on her skin. “Let me take you home.”
She turns around in his arms, coming face-to-face with the man. His eyes are lustful as they stare down at her, taking in her cleavage through her shirt. She’s staring up at him with doe-eyes as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling softly on his hair. She looks so innocent with her eyes glossed over… Glossed over? How much did she drink? He can’t help but think.
“Mine or yours?”
The second she’s done speaking he’s on the move, pulling her along as he moves through the crowd. He has a much easier time maneuvering through the crowd, something about this man just exudes power and no one wants to cross him. She can’t help but wonder what it’s like to be on the receiving end after pushing his buttons for hours on end. How rough he’d be…
It’s not long before they’re at his car, a black Jeep. Couldn’t imagine him driving anything else. Being the gentleman, he opens the door for her, helping her into the seat. He almost wants to buckle her up, a protective part of him coming out-- a part of him he didn’t even know existed.
Hopping into his side, he starts the car. Music immediately starts blasting from the radio and he goes to shut it off but she stops him. Their eyes meet, and it seems as if a whole conversation passes between them:
What are you doing?
It’s too loud.
I fucking love this song.
You’re something else.
The current song just so happens to be “Heaven is a Place on Earth” by Belinda Carlisle-- a song she hasn’t heard in years. The song screams 80s but in her mind, she already feels like she’s in heaven.
She’s staring out the window, staring up at the city lights while he drives. She doesn’t know it, but he’s staring right at her. It’s hard to concentrate on the road when she looks like a goddess. She rolled down her window and she’s sticking her head out. The window blows through her hair as she screams the lyrics out on the top of her lungs.
“Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?”
She turns to look at him, a twinkle in her eyes. He almost forgets to breathe. Her smile is contagious and he can’t help the chuckle that comes out.
“We’ll make heaven a place on earth!”
She’s actually crazy. In the best way imaginable.
She’s so carefree. She hasn’t seen how fucked up the world really is.
In her head, she’s performing in a music video. She’s singing the lyrics knowing fully well that they’ll actually put the audio over her. So it doesn’t matter if she sounds awful.
The orange street lights are the production lights shining down on her. The occasional red tail light is the camera hitting record. The music is an extension of her, her body. The way that she feels utterly amazing.
Euphoric.
She forgets to breathe after holding a line too long. The wind breezing past the car suddenly feels like it’s choking her so she leans back in, rolling up the window. She suddenly remembers she’s not on a movie set, she’s in a car with a beautiful man who can’t stop smiling at her.
“What’s your problem?” Her voice sounds more slurred than she meant it to be.
“You’re my problem,” his words would’ve been harsh, but the way he’s still smiling-- she could never get mad at him. “Sticking your head out, singing on the top of your lungs.” He shakes his head, looking at her in the eyes for a split second before turning back to the road. “You’re fucking amazing.”
The last part catches her off guard and she begins to laugh. He soon joins her and she notices the dimple on his cheek. She wants to poke it. So she does.
He pauses his laughter to stare at her, looking between her and the finger pressed to his cheek. Damn, every part of her is soft.
He wants to say something, but he’s eventually pulling up to the ranch. Chucho is away, visiting some friends. He would normally feel guilty about bringing home a girl like this, but everything about her is different.
He shifts the car into park, running around to the other side to open her door. He extends his hand out to her, helping her out of the car. She smiles up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Ever so the gentleman,” she says. He can’t help but chuckle. No one has ever called him a gentleman.
He turns to walk towards the front door but quickly halts as she trips over herself. He barely catches her in time, grabbing her forearms to prevent her from hitting the floor.
“I-I’m sorry…” she mumbles. She can’t even look at her eyes. He helps her to stand up, looking her over. Her hair is a mess from sticking her head out the window while he drove 60 in the streets. Her eyes are still glossy, and her pupils are dilated.
He guides her to the door, holding onto her arm.
But she falls into a fit of giggles, almost falling again. He once again barely catches her but decides she’s not even going to make it inside the house at this rate.
Sweeping her off her feet, literally, he carries her bridal style to the door. She won’t stop her giggling fit, turning into him to try and suppress the laughter. It works-- because she inhales a scent that is unmistakingly him. It’s his cologne, the whisky, the bar. It’s all over him and she can’t get enough.
As he unlocks the door, she decides to reach up to his neck. Pressing her lips softly against his collar bone that peeks out from the collar, he inhales sharply. The kiss is soft and almost innocent, but she’s a sexy girl who is still trying to tease him. The kiss evolves quickly as she begins to suck alongside his neck, occasionally sticking her tongue out to taste the sweat on him.
“Baby-- god, stop.” He’s rough on the last part. She automatically pulls away, looking up at him. When he looks down at her, he wants nothing more than to fuck her against the door. Hear her moans as he pounds into her relentlessly. The thoughts start flooding his brain but he has to quickly snap out of it.
“Did I do something wrong?” Her voice is soft, timid even.
“No-- I just don’t want to have to fuck you against the front door.”
They both laugh at that and he reaches for his keys, unlocking the door and stepping inside. He kicks the door shut behind him and begins to walk towards his room.
He doesn’t realize it, but she’s staring and trying to remember every detail of his face. The way his five o’clock shadow is beginning to set in, and she wants to feel it between her thighs. The way his eyes scan the dark home and she wants his eyes on her when he fucks her. The way his lips are always in an ever-so-slight pout and she wants to kiss them.
By the time he reaches his room, she’s almost drooling. He sets her down on the bed, kneeling before her. He unstraps the stilettos from her feet, noting how painfully tall the heels are. How do women walk in these? He doesn’t meet her eyes, he can’t.
When he goes to stand, he’s startled by her hands on his cheeks, pulling him to her. Her lips press to his. Hard. Fast. She’s kissing him like it’s her last day on earth and god… her lips are so soft. The way they move against his, sucking harshly on his bottom lip. He can’t help the way his tongue presses against her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She moans into the kiss when his hands grab onto her hips and pull her to stand against him. Their bodies feel like they melt into one… where one starts and the other ends is an anomaly. She moans once more when he holds her tighter, allowing his tongue to roam her mouth. It’s filthy, the noises he pulls from her by just kissing her.
“I-I don’t even…” she slurs into his mouth, slowly pulling away to look at him. “Your name.”
She says it like it’s a question, as if she formed a coherent question. He snaps out of the spell she put him under and suddenly remembers the situation.
“You’re fucking wasted.” His words sting. He didn’t have to be so harsh. He walks around her, pulling the sheets, back and gesturing to the bed. “I’m putting you to bed.”
“You--you…” She tries, really tries. But words aren’t easy. “Should b-be… in my bed…” He takes her hands, guiding her to the bed and sitting her down on the edge.
He kneels before her once again, looking up at her. Those glossy eyes. That distant stare. He knows going forward with his dick isn’t the right thing to do. By just looking at her, he feels that protective surge. He’s glad he’s the one to take her home, even if he’s not getting laid.
“You need to sleep,” his voice is raspy. Exhausted. She knows she’s pushed his buttons, but not in the way she wanted to. Nodding, she begins to unbutton her jeans, pulling the zipper down.
As she stands to pull them down her legs, he turns away. A part of that stings. Why won’t he just look at me? Because he’s respectful.
Tossing her jeans to the side, she sits back on the bed. Her mind is still elsewhere but she manages to lay down, closing her eyes. She hears him move, shuffling closer to her. She wants him to lay with her, hold her again so she can smell his cologne. But he won’t. Instead, he grabs the sheets and pulls them over her body, tucking her in. It’s so paternal of him.
“Tell me a-a… b-bedtime stor-story?” He laughs at that. He smiles down at her with her eyes still closed. She looks like an angel, one that he doesn’t deserve. Leaning down, he presses a kiss to her forehead. It’s quick and he questions his action the second he leans away.
“Next time.”