“Oh my God, do you know that guy?” Morgan asks me, following my gawking hazel eyes.
“Um, no,” I reply, trying to sound impassive.
“Are you sure? Because you two have been eye fucking for the past 10 minutes,” she chuckles, a hint of suspicion in her voice. She downs a Patron shot like a pro.
“Seriously, I’ve never seen him before,” I insist, blushing scarlet. I glance back at him and he’s still staring, unmoving. The contrast of his statue-still body with the rest of the rowdy partygoers is strange to say the least. It’s downright unnerving.
“Mmm hmm, sure, Gabs,” she taunts. And just like that she waves him over. My jaw hits the floor and I don’t know whether to run or launch Morgan across the bar. Dammit!
The beautifully daunting stranger strides toward us, never breaking eye contact, not even so much as pausing to maneuver through the crowd. It’s as if people are automatically parting like the Red Sea. In what seems like seconds, the stranger is standing before us, staring down at me as I sink into the plush couch, secretly wishing it would swallow me whole and save me from the blow of rejection that is sure to ensue.
“Hi, um, I’m Morgan and this is my, uh, friend, Gabriella,” Morgan stammers nervously. Perfectly poised Morgan? Nervous? Even she must feel the menacing vibes rolling off him. But I don’t feel scared. I’m…intrigued. Maybe even a bit aroused.
“Nice to meet you,” he nods in her direction, returning his unbreakable glare to me. “Gabriella,” he states thoughtfully, enunciating each syllable. His voice is like warm honey, delicious and sickly sweet.
I sit up and meet his gaze. I don’t back down from anyone, even incredibly scary yet gorgeous men in clubs. I give him my best ‘hard ass’ guise and nod at him rigidly. He regards my stance curiously and furrows his brow, a smile playing on his succulent lips. The change in his expression sends a jolt of electricity between my legs, something I haven’t felt in many moons. I gasp at my body’s uncontrolled impulse and he parts his lips fractionally, silently murmuring something. What the hell?
His face softens and his tense shoulders relax. Only then do I realize that the energetic buzz in our section has ceased and all eyes and ears are on our mystery guest, though he doesn’t seem to notice. He is maddeningly confident and impassive, as if no one else exists. And at this moment, no one does. His mere presence consumes the small space and I swear the air has become unusually dense upon his arrival. He literally takes my breath away.
“I am Dorian,” he states smoothly to no one in particular. Mmmm, Dorian. Even his name melts on the tongue like butter.
“Well, Dorian, please sit with us. Would you like some champagne?” Morgan sputters hastily, trying to regain her infamous Man-eater stance. She pours him a glass without waiting for a reply and holds it up to him. He carefully takes the glass from her and gracefully sits in the space between the two of us.
With Dorian in such close proximity, I am almost positive my heart will beat out of my chest and land in a goopy mess on the dance floor. I refuse to look directly at him for fear that I may freeze under those intense eyes, that I’ve now realized are ice blue. It is the lightest blue I have ever seen. I gulp down my remaining bubbly and smile meekly at him.
“So Dorian, what brings you out tonight? Special occasion?” Morgan questions. Dorian doesn’t answer. He just continues to gaze at me intensely, so she continues. “Hey, it’s actually Gabs’ birthday!” My eyes widen as I literally try to spurt fire from them at her. In an instant, Dorian’s eyes darken, a storm brewing behind the shroud of azure.
“Is that right?” he replies dryly with a hint of boredom. What the hell is his problem?
“Yeah, uh, she just turned 20,” Morgan blurts out when I don’t take the bait and offer any information.
Dorian shifts his body towards mine. He is so bold and sure of himself, it’s weirdly turning me on, and I hate it! I breathe in his intoxicating scent, praying the rise and fall of my chest don’t betray me. His unyielding gaze completely unnerves me yet I can’t tear my eyes from him. I know I should; everything about him is screaming sex and danger. The combination of the two mixed with my weakness for bad boys could very well be my kryptonite.
“Well, Happy Birthday, Gabriella,” he breathes.
Dorian brazenly takes my hand in his and strokes it gently, leaving a trail of icy tingles where his long fingers meet my skin, causing an involuntary gasp to fall from my wanting lips. He then brings it up to his face and lets his dazzling blue eyes close as he inhales the inside of my palm deeply. When they reopen, his pupils dilate and flash momentarily, his eyes becoming so light that they appear almost white for a split second. What the…? He then lets his full lips brush the back of it, again causing the warmth between my thighs to quiver. Then in one swift movement, he’s on his feet again.