1: Meeting
I shake my ass and hips, my skimpy outfit showing my tan skin glitzy with highlighter. I’m skimming my hair, and I continue flirtatiously dancing. The red lighting in the loud club only helps my sensuality. My black, lacy, lingerie shows through my fishnet shorts and crop top. I couldn’t care less, I’m enjoying myself. I live for myself and nobody else. I’ve been exhausted, all I’ve been doing is hunting, killing evil sons of bitches, sending them to hell, where they belong. I’m glad I can finally relax and let loose. Sometimes this lifestyle is shitty. Bad Behaviour by Mabel blares, I lip-sync to the words. I momentarily stop swaying to grab a drink. Boy, could I use a martini.
“One martini please!” I say, tapping the bar and placing a five-dollar bill on the counter. An INSANELY attractive man with tan skin and amazing hair walks up to me, throwing a cloth over his shoulder. I notice his eyes wandering across me, and his eyebrows furrow. God, those eyebrows are perfect.
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SAM POV:
I see a woman, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, dancing, swaying her perfect body around for everyone to see. I’m still undercover, looking for another pesky shapeshifter. The only shape I want near me is hers...
I wipe the counters, playing into my “barboy” cover. She stops dancing, and she turns to come to the bar and I see her bra, lacy and black, they cradle her boobs perfectly. Who on earth would wear fishnet clothes with the sexiest lingerie under them? what I would give to see her without the lingerie...
She taps the counter and places a bill on it. “One martini please!” she calls out, in a soft voice. Any softer and you wouldn’t be able to hear her.
I walk up to her, I look like a plate of potatoes compared to her, her tan skin shimmering in the red lighting. My eyes are still wandering her body, I see her checking me out too, her eyes undressing me back. My eyebrows furrow as I try to hold in a groan.
I start grabbing the ingredients for a martini... gin, dry vermouth...
“Olives?” I ask, looking up at her beautiful face and her deep brown eyes. She looks like a young Naomi Campbell. “Yeah, a martini without olives is just gin!” she giggles and smiles at me, her cheeks flushing.
“What’s your name?” I ask, handing her the drink. I’m already too attached to her, I know in 3 days, I’ll be back to jumping towns. “Prada,” she says, shyly tucking her brunette locks, perfectly curled into soft, wavy ringlets and taking a big sip of her martini. “You?” she asks, looking innocently at my eyes, looking my face up and down. I hear the quietest moan. “Perfect martini by the way.” “Sam, and thank you,” I say, and her eyes change. “Sam Winchester?” she says, squinting, looking me up and down. “Yes...” I say, hesitating. How does she know me? “I’m Prada DiLaurentis,” she says, sticking out her hand. I shake it, touching the first amount of her delicate skin. Her skin is so soft it’s as if she bathed in lotion this morning. “I take it you’re here for the shapeshifter, too, then,” she says, raising her eyebrow. “Are you a hunter?” I ask, looking at her, my eyes seeing hers soften. “Have been since last year,” she says, looking like she’s hiding something. I feel horrible and I take her hand in mine, my thumb softly stroking the back of her hand. “What happened?” I ask genuinely worried. I don’t ever want her to be hurting. “A demon killed my mother. 366 days ago,” she says, tears misting her eyes. “Who was your mother?” I ask, my eyebrows raising in sympathy. “Pamela Barnes,” she said, almost blankly. “PAMELA?!” I exclaim, my eyes bulging. “Yeah. Her undeserving death was at the hands of a demon-” her eyes glint with anger, “I couldn’t sit around and let other girls like me lose their lovers, siblings, or parents.” Her eyes are filled with compassion. And tears.
“Hey, it’s okay, Dilaur,” I say, the nickname slipping out. “shit!” “Dilaur?” she says, smiling smugly and raising an eyebrow, “ok, Winny,” she says, purposefully calling me that. I love it though. “Where are you staying?” I ask, trying to sound casual, trying not to seem awkward
“569 Washington Avenue... why?” she says, she sounds confident, even though I know she wants me to know where she lives, she was too eager to tell me.
“So I can see you sometime?” I say, questioning my response. I know why I really want to know.
“Ok, Winny,” she says, purring it sensually, “see you then,” she says.
With that I see her perfect ass jiggle out of the club.
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UPDATING AND PROOF-READING!
The next chapter has a few dribbles and teases of smut?
LMK WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE?
Much love,
Bx
