Page 2 of Koroleva

He was all I needed that night.

I walked, ignoring the crude remarks many threw my way, and reached the spot where my target was about to make his final shot, the one that would crown him king of the night.

I was convinced it would have been so, had it not been for the fact that I reached the ball before the wooden tip could strike it, and all he hit was air.

Murmurs of dismay arose from the guys surrounding us, who until then had been so focused on him they hadn't even noticed my arrival.

I didn't care who they were, or the astonished faces they made at the bold move I had just made. Because the only face that mattered to me had just risen to meet mine.

I felt like whistling.

A face worth remembering, indeed. Now that I saw him up close, he seemed even more handsome than when I had pegged him as my freight train.

Dark eyebrows, a straight nose adorned with a small hoop piercing in the right nostril. A square jaw, covered by a neatly groomed beard, and masculine lips, neither excessively thick nor too thin. Well-chiseled, just like the rest of that sexy biker. A most enticing ensemble.

He wasn't a guy I'd date or enter into a relationship with, but he was definitely one I'd like to position in any way, naked before me, and perhaps even go for a repeat.

"What are you doing?" he barked violently, seeing me toss the ball up and down without looking.

"It's your lucky night," I replied in more than commendable Spanish.

My Eastern accent was noticeable; I never bothered to hide it. Proud of my roots, it was easy to identify my origin. I could communicate perfectly in several languages thanks to the education our parents provided, who insisted that the four of us study at an international school.

My father believed that, in the business world, being able to communicate was essential in an increasingly globalized universe. So, he spared no expense. We all spoke three languages, in addition to our mother tongue: Russian, German, English, and Spanish.

When I managed to make his gaze, apart from watching the ball, boldly scan my entire anatomy, I took the liberty of pocketing the dark sphere in the hole, giving him no chance to make the last shot.

More insignificant murmurs behind me.

I closed the distance between us and allowed myself to caress the cue the same way I would his member. The retinas flickered over the movement for a moment, which I captured with pleasure, and then they returned to mine.

"I hope you have a good reason for taking such a risk," he remarked, anchored in my gaze.

He was a few inches taller than me, so he must have been around six foot three.

"I never do anything that isn't worth it. Your game was already won, you knew it, they knew it... What everyone didn't know, even you, is that the prize of the night had just arrived in the form: tonight you fuck with me." If he was surprised, he didn't show it. That turned me on, much more than if he had devoured me with his eyes, like most did. I offered him a lascivious smile. "It's time to celebrate, so drop that stick, because the real game is about to start somewhere else. Follow me," I commanded, giving him a lick on the side of the neck that cut his breath. My right hand released the cue and offered an intimate caress, which I saw as necessary to assess the goods before tasting them.

Having duly verified that the material was top quality, I gave him an enticing grimace and started walking as if I knew exactly where I was going and the place was not unfamiliar to me.

I assumed that the bathroom or the drink storage would emerge at some point if I headed to the back.

I didn't look back; someone like me didn't do that. I was a sure bet, and it would have been very odd for a guy, no matter how handsome, to reject an offer like mine.

I reached the back, next to the bar was a door that read "Authorized Personnel Only," and opposite it, another that was the restrooms.

I turned around and found him watching me like a predator, just as I expected. I offered him a wicked smile.

"So, what'll it be? Right?" I extended my hand toward the restrooms. "Or left?" I pointed to the staff door.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me confidently.

"Given a choice, I choose the same place I carry the charge," he explained hoarsely. I liked his reasoning.

He opened the door without difficulty, and we stepped into the darkness.

2

Dust we are, and to dust we shall return

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