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Dirty Little Heart
Dirty Little Heart
Author: JasmineM

That One Night.

“So, where are you from? Amazing.”

“Here’s another one. “ Where are you from” is the same question everyone asks. I don’t mind answering if you don’t think about how your father and uncle molested you. Yeah, well, a little tough Angelica May survived. California,

I smile and answer the stranger next to me, who’s been trying to get into my pants for the last half hour. I’ve always wanted to go there. The stranger says. Yeah, with an attitude like that, you’re gonna have a good time. I think to myself.

“Can I get you a drink, please?”

Ugh, would they ever stop? It’s the same attitude for all the guys. They’re still saying the same forging pickup line like they have a chance. Sure, I don’t mind having a one-night stand. But sometimes we need only the real intimacy that most men don’t have. Just as I’m about to say no, a voice comes from behind me.

“It will not happen, bro.”

I turn to see who has such an aggressive, deep voice that I like to hear when I’m in bed. The voice that shakes me to my core. That can only make me want more. I turn and look at this handsome, not too broad, alpha-kind male. He had his hands in his pockets and was staring directly at the dumb stranger sitting next to me, his eyes reflecting the lights of the bar.

I’ve been with my share of men, and never have I ever seen someone this attractive. I was curious about the way he addressed me. Without even realizing I was thinking about him and me, getting all over each other, eating stuff off each other, maybe getting a little kinky and tying each other while the other teases the other. I’m a little naughty like that. But all these things are those which we see in the movies or something. This isn’t a fantasy world. So I immediately snap out of it.

The stranger gets up and tries to face the sexy gentleman, only to discover that he’s way bigger than he is. The stranger tries to keep his cool, acting like he can stand up to him even when they are looking like the elephant and the ant.

“The stranger asks in a fake deep voice. Is there a problem?”

The sexy gentleman looks at me for a second and laughs, which I find pretty interesting for some reason. He’s silent for a moment and finally speaks.

“The problem is not me, it’s you.”

“Oh, my god, that voice is making me feel things I only felt when I was making myself satisfied with a fella toy of mine. How can someone’s voice affect me like that? It’s never happened to me. Now, all I could think about was taking him back to my house, pushing him to the bed, ripping his shirt off, and kissing him all over the body. Yet I’m here knowing that it’s not gonna happen, but acting like I know it would.”

“What do you mean?” He asks the stranger, “Who are you?”

And there goes my imagination. I catch the gentleman looking at me with a sharp eye. It’s like he’s reading my mind.

“She doesn’t care about you, and she’s never gonna care about you.“ He says.

The stranger looks at me with confusion. Instead of defending him, I give him a look and ask what he’s gonna say next. He looks at the gentleman.

“That’s not true. She’s been sitting here for over an hour and a half. If she didn’t want to, she would have turned me down from the beginning.” The stranger says.

Hello? When I spilt the whole glass of wine on your shirt, I gave you a clue. It’s not my fault you don’t know when someone gives you a clue.

“And how do you know all of this? You don’t even know her.”

That made me even more interested in this conversation. I put my head in my hand and look directly at the sexy guy for an answer. I want to hear what he has to say. He looks at the stranger, then at me, and finally, he speaks.

“By her body language. I saw you both sitting in this chair first. The more I tried to ignore her, the more her body language asked me to stay. She’s sitting here with you for like, what? How long, half an hour? She would have come with you in five if she wanted to get into your pants. She was looking all over the bar, trying to catch someone else’s eye, but no one had the guts to intervene. Finally, she got over it by drinking much more than usual, so that she won’t remember she even slept with a guy like you.”

“Are you kidding me? I think to myself. Who’s the guy?”

How can a mind reader be so amazing, private, and seductive at the same time? Is it by nature or he’s just pretending to be cool like all the other ones? A lot of guys have intervened in situations like these before, but this is the first and most interesting one I’ve come across since I first moved here. We stare at each other in silence and think about who will break the tension first.

The stranger looks at me and coughs in embarrassment and finally, he walks off, giving the sexy gentlemen a strange look. I look at him, he looks at me. It’s like time has stopped for some reason. I’m not someone who would slip easily into fairytale situations like these, but with this one? I kind of wanted to.

He sits right next to me and stares straight at the bar so he doesn’t have to look at me.

“Aren’t you gonna buy me a drink?” I ask him.

“That depends on how my night goes.” He replies.

I like when someone is simple and down-to-earth. they can ask if they want something. We have the choice to accept him, and vice versa.

“Why don’t you do it again? You’ve read my mind so well before. Why not do it again?”

I catch him smiling a little, as if he’s enjoying this conversation more than he thought he would. He turns his chair so that he can face me directly. He’s looking at me intently, and he’s leaning a little, holding his head with both hands under his chin and bending a little.

Damn, that staring is giving me goosebumps. He stays silent for 2 minutes with a teasing smirk on his face. Finally, he speaks.

“Your question is probably answered by both of us. He says.”

I smile, perfectly knowing the answer. I guess we both know. We finish our drinks. He takes me back to his place and the next thing I remember is him pushing me against the wall, pulling my hands up as if he’s asking me to surrender my whole body to him. And damn, I’ll be lying if I say I didn’t want to submit.

“You want this, huh? He says.”

“Hell yes.”

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