“I’m going out,” she said with resolve. “Dancing.”
“Great,” Kelly replied. “Have a fab time. I’m just going home to drink wine and hang out with my cat.” She laughed, wryly. “Oh, I envy the young.” She flashed Sasha a smile. “Let me know in the morning what you want to do.” With that, she left Sasha alone.
Sasha collected her things. I suppose it’s time to get my glad rags on, she thought.
***
An hour later, Sasha was standing awkwardly at the bar in a too-tight dress and too-tall heels, stirring a cranberry and vodka. She hadn’t yet taken a sip but had already been there long enough for the ice cubes to melt.
The lights were dim and the music loud—the perfect cocktail of ingredients for finding a quick fuck. Not that she’d had any luck so far. Maybe what had happened with Thomas had been a fluke? Maybe she wasn’t good at this at all?
Just then, the barman came over and leaned towards her, his elbows resting on the bar. “Been stood up?” he said.
He had a goatee and a sharp, angular jaw. His eyes were dark and slanted, making him appear almost feline-like.
Sasha laughed and stirred the drink with her straw. “Ha. That would imply there was a date to start with.”
“I see,” the barman replied. He looked over his shoulder at the clock. “Well, I have a ten minute break coming up and I know a pretty secluded alley we could go to...”
Sasha’s eyes darted up, alarmed by his blasé attitude. But then, what had she expected? It wasn’t like she was going to meet a Thomas Lloyd every time she wanted a fuck. The average man in a bar didn’t have passionately smoldering eyes, an effortless talent for coercion, millions of dollars in the bank, and a plush hotel room at his disposal. Her stomach dropped, as she realized that the average man wasn’t Thomas Lloyd. That she would never meet anyone with the same magnetism as him. That the best sex of her life had been earlier that day, and she’d never again reach those dizzying heights. Wasn’t Kelly proof of that? She’d been in the business a good thirty years but was alone, with just a cat and bottle of wine to keep her company.
The barman’s hand was resting on hers. “So, what do you say? Ten minutes, then I’ll take you to heaven and back.”
Sasha moved her hand out from under his and let out a little huff. “Does that line ever actually work?”
The barman gave her a look. “Sure.” Then his tone turned hostile. “With the ones who can tell I’m punching below my weight for them....”
“Excuse me?” Sasha said.
The barman shrugged. “You’re hardly a supermodel, lady. And the guys aren’t exactly fighting each other for your ass. Do you want it or not?”
“I think I’ll have to decline your offer,” she said with a sarcastic smile.
“Your loss. And if you want some advice, you could try smiling. No one wants to screw Debby Downer.” He smirked and walked away.
Sasha was fuming, and not just with the barman. She’d been a fool to think she could replicate her experience from this morning. That had been a once in a lifetime moment, something that she would never get to feel again. If it was earth-shattering orgasms she wanted, she certainly wasn’t going to get them hanging around in dingy clubs. And she’d tried the whole being pathetically in love thing, and even that hadn’t come close to the ecstasy of Thomas inside of her.
She decided to go home and turned, leaving her vodka and cranberry sitting on the bar. She wound through the crowd of drunk men and women, coupled up and embracing one another, with roving hands squeezing each other’s flesh and slobbering, desperate mouths. It was such a departure from what she’d had with Thomas—where everything aligned, where their bodies had yielded to each other in perfect symmetry—that she couldn’t help feeling a little sick at the sight.
Thomas had left Sasha aching for sex. Yearning for it. But it turned out that she didn’t want any kind of sex with any kind of person. It had to be him. It had to be his cock she felt inside of her.
Just then, her phone started ringing. She didn’t recognize the number. Probably a stupid sales call.
“What?” she said with a huff.
“Intern.”
She stood stock still. Her heart seemed to leap right into her throat. “Thomas?”
“Yes.”
His voice sent shivers of desire running through her.
“Intern, I—”
“Don’t call me that,” she interrupted.
“Sorry.” He sounded different on the phone. Less cock-sure. “I need to see you.”
Sasha paused. The throbbing desire between her legs was telling her to run to him, but her brain was screaming no. This was a dangerous game. Thomas Lloyd was a drug that she craved. He would get her hooked then leave her with nothing.