...Anastasia POV...
I do not care much for the nightlife. There is nothing less appealing than sitting in an overcrowded room with music loud enough to pierce your ears.
Not even to mention the numerous attempts by god knows whom to buy you a drink. It is as if I have lost my ability to use my hands and cannot do it myself. The problem with me is not so much the attention but the fact that I am always looking for that something else.
In saying something else, I mean more, more than just a once-off sexual encounter every night. That is all that these so-called gentlemen want. Gentlemen is what they call themselves, to me, well that is a word I must rather keep to myself. I do in no way hate men; there is just a certain type that I dislike.
But I do this for Eva, and I am always keen to support Zachariah. He has owned this quaint little bar for six years now. On our very few nights off, we find ourselves mingling here with whichever brave soul shows up at our table.
One such brave soul is the one across the floor staring at me. But he is staring at me in a strange way; it is like he is studying me. He looks like a man with a purpose, a man that is out on the prowl. I cannot help feeling that he wants me in more than a different way.
But there is something else about him. Apart from being insanely hot, there is something that draws me. I watch him as he gets up; I am kind of sad that he is leaving. But instead, I see him walking across the floor; he is coming over to our table.
Excitement overwhelms me as I draw Eva a bit closer to me, "Eva, look what is making its way over here."
"Oh my god, the lord sure took his sweet time making them?" she says. "I can't decide which one is my kind of flavor."
"Eva, what makes you think we are even their kind of flavor?"
She looks at me, not the least bit amused, "Honey, they won't be walking over here if we weren't."
I can feel my heart start pounding. A flush of heat washes over me, he is not even at our table, and he is setting my body on fire. How can such a man, such a stranger, has this much power over me.
He comes to a dead stand at the front of our table. There is nothing that is not perfect about him. He has a strong face that is framed with a perfect chiseled jaw. His deep dark eyes feel as if it is imprinting right into my soul.
He seems nervous; it is like he's not used to doing this kind of thing. He has a slight tremble in his hand, but that could also be from the cold. His friend, though, seems a whole lot more at ease.
My heart is now beating completely out of control. The presence of him licks my body with desire. I feel a craving for him, more like a need, a deep hunger inside me. I want to rip every inch of cloth off his perfectly sculpted body.
But then something strange happens; he turns around and leaves. He can't do that, not now, not after he has drawn me in like that. Before I even know what overcomes me, I dash after him to call him back.
"Wait! Stop! Don't go!"
He turns around and looks at me. "My dear, are you talking to me?"
"Well, unless there is someone else behind you, then yes. Yes, I am. Please come back to the table. I am sorry if we did something wrong."
He looks at me, somewhat confused but mostly surprised, "You want me to come back to your table?"
"Yes, you," I reply. "So, what do you say? Will you come and have a drink with us. Your friend has already made himself comfortable with Eva."
There is a spark that is awakened in his eyes as he speaks again, "If you wish, I would be glad to join you. I must warn you though my company is not that pleasant."
I lean into him and whisper, "Let me tell you a secret."
I move my lips a little closer to his ear. "Neither am I."
He turns his face to look me in the eyes; his lips gently brush against my cheek. I freeze and gasp. It is like little sparks prickling my skin. His lips are soft, but there is a different softness to him. I had never felt this feeling before. I am inches away from his lips; I can so easily kiss him.
As our eyes meet, I can see that same desire hiding inside them. I look down to his lips and them back up into his eyes. He is so close, so close that I can taste him. I can feel his warm breath linger over my lips. He slightly bites at his bottom lip, and I swear my knees give in.
As I open my mouth to speak, there comes nothing but a fumble of words, "Uhm...do...do you..."
"Yes...yes...of course, I do," he fumbles to me in return.
I doubt we both even know what we are saying I do at. The moment is so intense; there is so much raw heat between us that nothing makes sense.
As we walk to the table, I can feel his eyes are firmly staring at the back of me. I know what he is so intently looking at; Eva made me put on this red dress that hugs every contour of my body.
Thinking of what he is thinking is making me weak. To fuel the heated tension between us even more, he comes to sit down next to me.
"Let us try this again. My name is Anastasia, and that is Eva."
"Evening Anastasia. Sebastian, Sebastian Belmont, and my friend over there is Edward Vondrake."
I reached out my hand and give his a light squeeze, my god; even his hands feel as good as his lips. My voice is shaky, and my knees once again feel weak, "Well, Sebastian Belmont, it is nice to make your acquaintance."
Before I make a complete fool of myself, his friend Edward speaks, "Good to meet you too, Anastasia. You must excuse my friend for running off like that; he is just a little rusty around ladies."
Eva, who is ever acting her seductive self, turns all her attention to Edward. "I like how you refer to us as ladies, not the typical girl remark. And must I say you two are viciously handsome."
"Eva! You can't say things like that," I blurt out, nearly choking on my drink.
"Anastasia, I am sure these gentlemen hear it all the time," she says as she turns her attention to me.
I feel Sebastian's eyes are on me. He has not stopped looking at me since we sat down. Even as he speaks to Eva, his eyes remain focused upon me. He is doing that thing with his lip again, and it is driving me wild.
There is an awkward silence that has set around the table; as if sensing it, Edward is the next to speak, "Let me be a gentleman and get you, ladies, a drink. How about one of those tiny things you call cosmopolitans?"
"Of course," Eva says, "And let me guess, you guys are whiskey drinkers? You look like men that have an acquired taste for the finer things of life."
Sebastian almost immediately replies, "We only indulge in the drinking of whiskey if we have to."
"If you have to?" I ask.
"What Sebastian is trying to say is that we like whiskey but have a more acquired taste for wine," Edward attempts to explain the silliness of Sebastian's remark away.
"It would have never guessed that. You guys don't look the type." I remark.
"My dear Anastasia, there is a lot that we don't look like," Sebastian says with a wicked little smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
He never once takes his eyes off me. Then suddenly, faster than I have even noticed, his hand is resting upon mine. Every sense in my body is awakened. I can feel myself slightly getting aroused. His touch feels like something my body has been missing until now.
Feeling this uncontrollable feeling build up in my body, I suddenly feel the urge to getaway. "Uhm...I...if you will excuse me...I...I need to go to the ladies."
I do not even wait for someone to acknowledge; I dash from the table and head to the bathroom. But it is not the bathroom to which I go; I pass the entrance and head to the door that leads out the back into the alley. As I step out, I take a deep breath and lean against the wall. My eyes are closed as I try to steady my erratic heartbeat.
As the heat in me starts to settle down, I feel a presence in front of me. I can smell the scent of musk lingering in the air. Warm air blows against my skin as I hear someone's breathing.
I start to panic. Why did I have to come out here? Is tonight the night that I am going to be attacked? I hold my breath.
Then I hear his voice. "Calm your heart Anastasia; it is only me."
As I open my eyes, I see Sebastian standing in front of me. His hand is pressed against the wall next to me while he takes the other to caress my cheek. He is doing that thing with his lip again. His lips are trembling as he runs them softly against my cheek. He runs them down the smooth skin of my neck.
With a soft voice, I whimper, "Se...Sebastian, what, what are you doing?"