01
Flirt.
In which Sebastian takes up the courage to flirt.
Mira is pronounced like meera.
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WHEN THE FORTUNE COOKIE SAID I would meet a tall, dark and handsome stranger, I certainly didn't expect him to be that handsome. In all honesty, I wasn't gullible enough to believe that fortune cookies brought me any fortune because I, Mira Casey, was anything but fortunate.
I was occasionally clumsy and had a copious amount of embarrassing situations that I would never disclose to anyone. All my boyfriends had been absolutely jerks who often started as sweethearts but had a very traditional and sexist opinion on the 'hierarchy' of a relationship.
But, all the thoughts scattered as I stared at him.
His dark, alluring eyes held mine as my body swayed to the upbeat music. Tendrils of my dark brown hair guarded my tired eyes just as well as my makeup did, and a coquettish smile poked at the edge of my lips.
Four tequila slammers in, and I was officially seeing doubles, which wasn't so bad when the handsome stranger pushed himself off the couch and slowly walked over to me with a casual air of coolness surrounding him.
He seemed almost out of place in the club with his formal attire, but he had rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows, which showcased his muscular arms, demonstrating him as relaxed. My knees couldn't help but slightly buckle when the intoxicating scent of his cologne wafted to my nose, consuming me with thoughts that were far too difficult to actually process.
A teasing smile played at his plump lips, and a smooth hand glided across my hip until he was pressing it to the small of my back. When he stepped closer, my arms instinctively wrapped around his neck as his mouth lingered dangerously close to my ear.
"Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I'll give it back." His voice was deep and husky and caused goosebumps to rise on my skin.
Actually registering what he said, I snorted and leaned back. "Is this you flirting with me?"
A glint of mirth shone in his dark eyes and the crook of his lips pulled up with a small smirk. "Yes. I'm a professional flirt, can't you tell?"
His arms wound around my waist and he moved his body in synchronisation with mine. A thin sheen of red scattered across his cheeks, but it was all a bit hazy as the club lights shone down on his face. My hands pressed against the toned planes of his chest and I gave him a lazy smile.
"Professional flirt?" I choked back a laugh. "Hit me with another pick-up line, and you might just convince me."
Over the loud music, he had to strain to hear me, and as a result, he grabbed onto my hand. Leading me to where he had previously been sitting, I plopped down next to him. I didn't have time to be shocked that it was in the VIP area as he cleared his throat.
He sighed dramatically and brought his shoulders into a shrug. "You're so beautiful you made me forget my pick up line."
Dimples dug into my cheeks and I leaned back, trying to focus his image. "Your game is absolutely amazing," I said with sarcastic undertones, feeling slightly taken with how adorable he seemed.
Could I say he was adorable?
Normally, a guy dressed so expensively would be perceived as serious and having a lack of humour in his life, but he seemed so casual.
"Admit it," he grinned, reaching for a shot glass and downing whatever filled it. "I'm totally winning you over."
He scattered his hair into a messier style, popping open the first two buttons of his shirt. Smiling hazily, I felt him slide closer to me as his arm slung behind me.
"You're winning over drunk Mira," I commented, my head falling to the side and resting on my shoulder as my hair curtained my face.
"Mira?" he repeated with a small smile. "A beautiful name for a very beautiful girl."
"Was that another pick-up line?"
"An attempt, yes."
He handed me a shot glass as I caught sight of 4 burly men stationed in each corner of the cut-off section of the club. Taking the glass, I tipped my head back and grimaced at the intensity of the drink.
"So, what's your name?"
His hand tucked the errant strands of my hair behind my ear, closing his eyes momentarily. "Sebastian."
"Sebastian Stan!" I exclaimed, feeling the fangirl in me emerge.
Sebastian simply laughed. "Sebastian Harrington, actually." He corrected, biting his plump bottom lip subtly. "I do know Sebastian Stan, though."
Sebastian Harrington?
The name seemed familiar, but I thought nothing of it as he handed me another shot glass. I smiled coquettishly as his arm linked with mine, his glass near his lips.
"To cheesy pick-up lines."
When we brought our heads back, his face was closer and his eyes strongly reminded me of melted hot chocolate. As on cue, my stomach grumbled loudly and his gaze dropped to my stomach.
"Know what's on the menu? Me-n-u."
I couldn't control my laughter, laughing so hard that it spread to Sebastian, his lips parting in a wide grin. He seemed proud with that pick-up line, his hand sliding to my thigh when I drunkenly slung my legs over his.
"You've definitely won me over."
His lips neared my ear again, and in a hot whisper, he said: "Can I borrow a kiss now?"
Holding up a finger, I motioned for him to pour another shot glass, drinking it in half the time it took him to pour it. It was then I held his face in my hands, kissing him squarely.
He was a surprisingly good kisser, taking my breath away, quite literally, when his lips pressed against mine harder. What felt like seconds turned into minutes, and when we finally pulled away, I was a whole lot dizzier.
Whether it was the booze or his kiss, I soon became more alert when a few flashes - that I initially mistook for the club lights - momentarily blinded me.
Turning to Sebastian, I blinked dazedly. "You have bodyguards and the press's attention. Are you a millionaire or something?"
A flash of guilt flitted across his Greek godlike features. Sheepishly smiling, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm a billionaire, actually."