GERALD
The bar is so rowdy and packed that one could just easily see the sparks fly around- literally. What were these little lights, and why did they get on my nerves so much? People lingered in pairs, just as expected. It reeked of alcohol and sweat, not to mention the excruciating disgusting combination of zoo sounds they called music, moving their sweaty bodies to it.
It was classy compared to the bar I'd found Rosaline on that day, yet it wasn't classy enough to earn my presence in it, or hers. My eyes continued to dart around, and I only seemed to notice the worst things about the place, which simply meant, there was no good thing.
My hand tightened around Rosaline's. The troubled expression on her face was one I was going to remember for a while.
She was just as displeased as I was, but Jonathan was an impossible doom to ward off. I'd have done everything in my power to decline the invite if I'd known he was going to be the one controlling it. He charged on, and Rosaline followed him, pulling me deeper into the bar, and my hearing was completely swallowed by the noise.
Jonathan finally stopped by the main bar- a long table occupied by other people, but out of "pure" chance, there were three empty seats at the edgy end of it, patiently waiting for us to occupy it. I rolled my eyes and grunted. What happened to having free will?
"Here! Have your seats!" Jonathan offered, yelling at the top of his lungs to overpower the terrible music. "This will be the best night of your lives!"
"Or the worst," Rosaline mumbled as she climbed onto one of the chairs. I shared her sentiment and sat next to her. There was nothing but narcotics and alcohol here, from the looks of things. Tonight wasn't the kind of night to get drunk.
"So," Jonathan placed both hands on his hips. "Now, I just need to run it by you. There are several watching eyes around. When I say watching eyes, I don't mean people alone. I mean people and cameras. That's the reason you're here anyway. There are no blind spots, so consider it to be a reality TV show."
I sighted the cameras the moment I walked in; that much was expected of them. How far will they go to promote this little resort? "So what do you want us to do?" I finally asked. "Let's get it over with."
"Oh, we'd get to that, pretty boy," He hushed. "Which brings me to my next question, which of you two has the better alcohol tolerance? Our first game tonight will be the game of shots!"
"Bad idea!" Rosaline cut in. I could see the fear flash through her eyes. I just didn't know what she was scared of. "I don't plan to get drunk."
Jonathan closed in on her personal space, both hands on his chin as he crouched low to her seat. "The point of this is for you two to loosen up and have some fun. And that's exactly what the people need to see. The great Gerald Thorne, drinking and partying with his dear wife in MY resort. You agreed to the deal. Here it is."
He was right, after all. We already agreed. Rosaline was about to protest when I pulled her back. "Fine. Let's do it."
A pleased smile appeared on his face as he gawked. "Good, then. I suppose you two will have no problem mingling, then."
*
As the night wore on, Rosaline and I found us reluctantly mingling with the crowd, our discomfort masked by forced smiles and polite nods. We engaged in small talk with another couple we met at the bar, laughing at jokes that didn't quite reach our eyes, and dutifully joined in as shots were passed around.
Alcohol seemed to solve all problems here. I couldn't shake off the feeling of being trapped in this charade, but as the alcohol flowed, I found myself loosening up despite my initial resistance. I caught myself stealing glances at Rosaline, observing the way her eyes sparkled under the dim lights. I was unable to deny the fleeting moments of genuine connection that flickered between us amidst the pretense.
When Rosaline leaned in to whisper something in my ear, her warm breath brushing against my skin, I felt a jolt of unexpected excitement ripple through me. So much that I couldn't even make out what she said.
"What?"
"I said, I dare you to climb that stage and twerk!" She said, louder this time, that her voice had heads turning in our direction.
I grimaced. "At least I have what it takes."
Rosaline grabbed another bottle and poured herself a shot. Her red cheeks were a giveaway that she was already getting drunk. "Did you study how to be mean, or does it just come easily to you."
"I'd stop if you stop drinking," I yanked the glass from her. "You look as if you dived headfirst into a pool of blush."
Rosaline glared at me, but didn't let go of the scotch. How much longer do we have to be here? As the night progressed slowly, I battled nerves, my entire body twitching to have her in my arms once more. I was drawn to Rosaline's side more and more. It was like a spell that I had no dominion over me.
This wasn't just alcohol. I didn't know how we got up to this stage or why her body was in my arms, and I grabbed her like she was my addiction- everything I needed to survive. The music wasn't so terrible anymore, and our movements on the dance floor grew increasingly fluid and synchronized. I couldn't help but admire the way she moved, graceful yet uninhibited, her laughter ringing out like music in my ears.
Maybe the bar wasn't that bad. I had the fiery hunger crawl up my throat again, and it was taking all my sanity to not glue my lips to hers. Why was she so beautiful?
"Hey," Rosaline slurred slightly as we swayed together, her words tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "You know, you actually look good up close."
Out of the blue? I felt a surge of warmth spread through me at her words, my heart pounding in my chest as I gazed into her eyes that were clouded with a mixture of alcohol and something else I couldn't quite place.
At that moment, I realized just how much I had underestimated her, how much I had failed to see beyond the facade she presented to the world.
"Thanks," I murmured softly, my voice barely audible above the din of the crowd. "You don't look too bad yourself."
She giggled coyly, and, in an adorable voice, said. "First compliment from you, and it still sounds like an insult."
My hands fell to her lower back, and I hastily pulled her closer, reveling in her warmth. Our dance continued in silence, the unspoken tension between us growing with each passing moment. The effects of the alcohol began to take their toll, and I decided, something that had been lying at the tip of my tongue all night long.
I couldn't hold it anymore.
"Come on," I said, gently taking Rosaline's hand in mine. "Do you--"
"Let's get out of here," she interrupted, stealing the words right out of my mouth.
Together, we made our way through the lines of people, stumbling slightly as we navigated back to the hotel room.
We barely made it past the door when I slammed her back against the wall, slightly, completely overcome by my want for her. From the way Rosaline wrapped her hands around me, I wasn't the only one dying of thirst.
I kissed her hungrily, breathlessly, like my life depended on it. The subtle touch of Rosaline's lips on mine somehow rewired my entire brain, bursting on my tongue like fireworks and honey and everything beautiful.
I grunted lowly, moving my hand from her neck, and I cupped her face aggressively, moaning and pushing her lips into mine with my lips slightly open to deepen our kiss. She moaned against my mouth, and my head went completely blank.
I wanted to give her everything. I wanted to taste everything, every part of Rosaline. I was hungry for her.
I fucking craved her.
The strong smell of scotch permeated her lips as she squirmed under my touch, backing away until we hit another wall. The air was hot, and tense, and every part of me was awoken. My dick twitched in my pants, crying for release, and the way Rosaline moved her leg on mine wasn't helping.
Icy fire burned through my skin, the nice kind of fire that even the wind couldn't tame. I felt the hot, the cold, and the incredible warmth of being so close to her. We measured unspoken words with our lips joined together. I couldn't stop myself; no matter how much I wanted to, there was no stopping the fire that she ignited in me.
"God... Rosa," I groaned, supporting the small of her back with both my hands.
My heart kept missing beats. I've kissed before, and It didn't set me on fire like this did. Rosaline pulled away, breaking the kiss with a small gasp, making me realize I hadn't been breathing, too. I panted, my heart thumping and every fiber of my being screaming for more. More friction, more tension. I couldn't tame my need.
Her red lipstick was smeared all over my face. I could taste it. Still, how could someone look so sexy? Her eyes were barely open, blurry, and filled with lewdness. Just as mine was. It was taking too much restraint to stay away like this. The only thing my brain chanted was to continue what we'd already started.
"Take it off..." She mumbled underneath her breath, scratching and fumbling with my shirt. I immediately pulled it over my head and tossed it to a corner of the room.
Her fingers were hot and urgent, trailing my chest, and pressure built up in my lower abdomen. I picked her up and headed to the nearest couch, placing her there gently before taking one long look at her. She could do without the dress, but I didn't want to push it.
I held her hand up above her head, letting my mouth travel down her torso, even with her clothes still on. "You kill me, Rosa..." I whispered, planting wild kisses on her. "You kill me."
The break only lasted a second before she pounced on me again, reeling me in with both her hands wrapped around my neck. Blood shot up my head and down my groin.
My throat was suddenly dry. I began to leave trails of kisses up her neck up to her earlobe before I reached the corner of her lips and kissed her there, slightly. Tongue, teeth, and everything.
Her brown eyes were hazy with lust, and so were mine. Rosaline cocked her head to the side and had me kiss her on the lips again.
"Hm..." She broke away for a while, then kissed me again. "Bed?" Rosaline didn't wait for a response. Her lips crashed into mine again, throwing me into ecstasy.
Again and again. She didn't stop, and she made me feral; every part of her did. "Let's go to the bed, please." I heard her little plea, and my grip around her tightened. "Please..."
I was dying. My defense was breaking. I pulled away and looked at her. I seemed like the saner one here, and it was rarely ever so.
"Rosa... are you sure?"
"Hm, hm," she uttered, pushing forward to lick my bottom lip. She chortled slightly, slouching back to the couch with a bounce. "Room - now. Let's...." Her voice trailed. "Let's go all out..."
I pulled away again. This isn't right. This isn't right. She's drunk! I chanted repeatedly in my head, anything to bring me back to sanity.
"Fucking stay still. Let me kiss you!" she yelled at me, digging her hands into my hair to pull me back close.
"You're drunk. We should stop," I croaked, slowly backing away from the couch she laid. Every step I took away from her felt like nails digging into my chest.
Rosa wore a disappointed expression, and I watched the light in her eyes dim as her stare turned luscious.
Those weren't the eyes of someone who accepted defeat. She stealthily rose from the couch, keeping her eyes locked on mine and her hand angled back, reaching for her zip.
"Rosaline..." I stuttered, my feet frozen to the floor. These urges would let me stop her. "Don't..."
She wasn't listening. Didn't plan to.
"Now to the main course."