Damage Repaired

Chapter 7

"Can I get you anything, Miss?" The bartender asked as soon as I slid in a seat.

"I'll take a club soda, thanks," I smiled politely at him. If I was going home with someone tonight, I'd rather not be shitfaced the entire time.

As soon as the bartender disappeared, a masculine scent wafted into my nostrils the same time a body filled the seat beside me. I turned my head slightly to find the stranger from the VIP section and smirked at how Dylan predicted his exact moves.

"Took you long enough," my mouth moved before I could process what I was saying. "I was beginning to think you were interested in my friends rather than me."

The stranger beside me chuckled lowly and held his hand out to stop the bartender from asking him anything when he came back with my drink.

Then, his deep british voice filled the air. "Forgive me; those stairs are more vicious than they look. I had to stop to catch my breath."

I chuckled at his sense of humor and took a sip of the drink in front of me, trying to act normal. "So what you're telling me is that you can't keep up?"

I lifted my head and turned towards him to get a better look at his face. He had piercing emerald green eyes with long black hair pulled back into a neat low bun with stubble decorating his sharp jaw. He wore an expensive navy blue three-piece suit that did nothing to hide his muscular arms hidden underneath.

"Maybe," his eyes trailed down to my lips, neck, breasts, waist, then legs, taking me in the same way I did him. "Would you like to test out that theory?"

I cocked my head to the side and smirked. "I don't even know your name, and yet you're already asking me to jump in bed with you?"

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he held my eyes. "I thought we were talking about racing. Seems to me like you're the one who wants to do all the jumping."

I bit my lip to mask the smile that threatened to appear as he stretched out his large hand. "Ezra Knight."
(See his aesthetic above or in my Character Aesthetics Chapter.)

"Nice to put a name to the face," I replied, taking his rough hand in mine.

"Wish I could say the same," he lifted an eyebrow waiting for me to introduce myself.

"Ana."

He nodded slowly. "So Ana, what's your story?"

"What makes you think I have a story?"

"Don't we all?"

I took another sip of my drink. "Touché."

"Let me guess," he turned his massive body towards me, his long legs spread apart. "Some guy broke your heart, so you came here to drink and forget?"

I snorted at how simple he made it sound. "Something like that, but I didn't come here just to drink; I came to find someone who's willing to fuck me until I forget my name," I replied boldly.

A flicker of surprise flashed through his eyes for a fraction of a second, but was quickly replaced with lust.

"You up for this challenge, or should I go back on the dance floor to find someone else?"

Ezra leaned forward, his eyes flickering down to my lips. "I think I can handle it."

"One more thing," I continued, reaching out and twirling his tie around my index finger.

"Hm?"

I smiled seductively and stared deep into his eyes. "Try not to fall in love with me."

He chuckled and fingered one of the loose curls hanging in my face. "That won't be a problem, sweetheart."