Strictly Taboo(83)

The Delancey more than a couple of miles from his hotel, but with the sheer number of people bustling past him, Francis found himself more than willing to take a cab. The stench was almost unbearable as he pulled his shoulders inward and tried to avoid being touched at all while the doorman hailed a cab for him. The feeling of relief was almost overwhelming when he slipped in to the dim backseat. Although the entire car smelled stagnant, it was much preferable to Francis than smelling stagnant and being touched by hundreds of strangers.

When the cab pulled up in front of the DeLancey some twenty minutes later, Francis pulled a small crumple of bills from his pocket and hopping out of the cab gingerly, he posted them through the driver’s window. The driver looked at him strangely for just a moment but when it became obvious that Francis wasn't going to be the first to look away, he sped off. Francis turned slowly to look at the building in front of him. It was nothing like he had imagined, but he could smell the popularity of the place from outside on the street. Jerking his head from side to side he cracked the vertebra in his neck and then taking a deep breath he walked inside.

“Hey, sexy!” A voice called to him as soon as he crossed the threshold. He glanced over to see a tall woman with chocolate colored skin beckoning him over with a long slender finger. He looked her up and down before turning away. As he walked further in to the club he could hear her shouting abuses at him and he couldn't help but smirk. He did like a feisty woman, but she wasn't what he was looking for. The picture in his mind was clear and he knew that he would know her when he saw her.

The damask patterned wallpaper hung above the deep red velvet benches and overhead numerous chandeliers cast their dim glow. Francis surveyed the room. A number of ‘goth’ looking women were sipping multicolored drinks from dainty glasses. Francis sighed, this wasn't what he had expected at all. They all puckered their ruby lips and fiddled with the silver rings that punctuated their nostrils. No, he definitely couldn't see any of these women being whom he was seeking. Still, it wouldn't hurt to practice.

Francis went to the bar and ordered himself a whiskey. As he waited for the man wearing heavy eyeliner to pour his drink, he turned back to the crowd behind him. He needed to know who he was going to approach. She certainly shouldn't be the most physically appealing – while Francis was aware of just how handsome he was, he wasn't in the mood to battle it out with a guy in a trench coat over someone he had no intention of impregnating.

The bartender handed him his drink. Francis pushed a ten dollar bill across the bar top and turned back to the girls. It was then that he spotted her. Her long brown hair was cut to her shoulders and while her skin was pale, it was naturally so unlike the majority of the women he could see who had caked pale powder on their faces. She sat in the corner of one of the velvet benches, surrounded on both sides by a large crowd of people, but seemingly unnoticed by them all. Yes, Francis decided, she was the one he would go home with tonight.





Chapter 4

The girl with the brown hair clung to Francis’s elbow. She leaned in to his body when he spoke and when she laughed she would throw her head back dramatically. For Francis this was torture, but he had needs and for all intents and purposes this girl had what was required to take care of those needs. When, after just an hour of forcing conversation, Francis suggested that they go back to his hotel, she was more than willing. This surprised Francis as he had expected much more of an internal struggle as she rationalized her inner whore to her inner princess. It seemed that this one, no matter how reserved she might have seemed, had no qualms indulging in the darker pleasures. This made Francis very happy indeed.

As they rode back to the hotel, the girl, whose name turned out to be Valentina, chattered excitedly about music. She was raving about a heavy metal band that Francis neither recognized nor cared about. The only music that appealed to him was the mournful tone of the harpsichord. Still, he indulged her.

“You would just die if you heard them live! I mean, it's unbelievable! The bass is so deep that it rattles every organ in your body!” Francis couldn't help thinking of how he intended on rattling every organ in her body as well and he smirked silently to himself. She smiled back. “I’ll have to look on my phone when we get to your hotel, I'm pretty sure I have at least one of their tracks on there. I never take my phone out in cabs though, I'm always so afraid that I'll forget it. God, I couldn't live without my phone, could you?” She looked at him in the first moment of silence since they'd entered the cab. Francis wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to say because at some point in her rambling, he had just stopped listening.