Finding Lika

Stealing Candy From A Baby

Eliska tripped over her words on the phone, and Henry tightened his jaw in disapproval. She rarely got herself drunk, so he had his reservations; much more so when she was at it alone.

After coaxing her into telling him which night club she was in, the British man pulled on a baseball cap, hiding his dark curls and the graceful features of his handsome face under the shadow. He made his way out of his house and clicked the key to his car. He got in the car and turned on the engine before driving off. The tires screeched as he made a quick turn and into the midnight traffic of London.

There was a long line at the entrance of the night club. A bouncer with a figure almost as big as him guarded the entrance. Not bothering to line up, Henry cut the line. He needed only lift his baseball cap a little to convince the security guy to let him in.

As soon as he got in, he pulled his phone and dialed her number whilst adjusting his baseball cap and keeping his baby blue eyes alert. He searched her in the midst of dancing and gyrating bodies against one another, in sync with the thumping beat of the music.

He should've known that she wouldn't be in the middle of the dance floor. Even when drunk, the girl had always been a reluctant dancer.

His blood boiled when he saw her by the bar, staggering on her feet, a random guy hugging her from behind, dragging her to the dance floor while clearly she didn't want to. Heck, even Henry had been trying to get her to dance with him these past seven years and still hadn't succeeded. This horny guy had no right.

Henry grabbed her by the arm rather harshly, prying her off of the stranger's wandering hands. The music blared in his ears; people cheered as the DJ laid a particularly impressive beat for the crowd. He found himself standing neck to neck with the stranger who stood just below his nose. The loud noise around them prevented anyone to have any real conversation, but the stranger didn't need to be able to hear his seething growl to know that Henry was claiming the short girl as his girlfriend.

His eyes still simmered with curbed anger even after the stranger backed off and walked away. Henry pulled the dark haired woman who wobbled on her feet against his broad chest.

"Eliska Denali!" he gained her attention, using her full name as if admonishing her while his eyes scanned her form. He decided that he didn't like her wearing that tight fitting dress to go out alone to this kind of place. The girl smiled drunkenly at him. Henry sighed, his gaze softened despite the still evident displeasure in his eyes. With his free hand, he lit a match to gain the busy bartender's attention.

Upon recognizing that hiding under the baseball cap was the face of a rising movie star–Henry Kingsley, in the flesh–the bartender was quick to drop whatever he was doing and alerted his boss to take care of their high profile customer. The actor asked only one thing to the club manager–private room to sit where no one won't be able to recognize or approach him.

A minute later, Henry was half dragging the drunk woman towards a private VIP lounge on the second floor overlooking the whole club. The music still blared from the speaker, loud enough even from up here; the view nothing short but spectacular with all the colorful lighting and highlights shimmering in the dark.

Not that the she could appreciate it anyway.

It was probably best to let his best friend come down from her drunkenness first before hauling her to the car. So after helping her sit on the spacious wine-coloured sofa, the good looking actor opened a bottle of whisky and poured himself a glass. He sighed when he saw the usually tame girl sprawled across the sofa like a drunken rag doll. She was going to have a magnificent hangover tomorrow.

As he nursed his drink, the girl, as if growing an antenna for anything alcoholic, got up from the sofa and lifted her hands to get Henry's glass. The man with the sculpted physique easily lifted his drink out of her reach, and the girl followed it like a moth to a flame. She climbed up his lap, hands reaching out for the amber nectar in his grasp. He shot Eliska a stern look, making the dark eyed girl pout adorably and slump in defeat to his chest.

Henry chuckled when she pressed her face against his muscular shoulder.

You poor little thing, he thought to his best friend, as if her drunk self could somehow hear him telepathically.

Henry froze when he realized that it was the softness of her lips that was pressed against his neck. He swallowed thickly; eyes wide, mind jumbled as the music continued to beat in his ears and thrummed in the cavity of his chest. All of a sudden he grew hyper aware of how soft and warm was the curve of her chest and stomach against him. The small girl trailed wet kisses down the length of his muscular neck; his breath hitched.

He should stop her, and he did. He pushed her hips away from his gently, but the drunken woman latched herself back to his neck and resumed her torture against him. It felt like a long moment until he drew the conclusion and told himself that it was better him than a random guy she met at this night club.

Henry placed his glass on the table and wrapped his arms around her back hesitantly. He closed his eyes at the sensation of her wet mouth under his sensitive ear; his heart pounded against his chest. He buried his face on her shoulder, inhaling her comforting scent mixed with her perfume and the smell of alcohol.

Her lips had traveled up to his jaw when he noticed the waiter placed a bottle of mineral water and a glass on the table in front of him. Henry kept telling himself that it was not the first time he had a beautiful girl straddling his lap and doing things to him. That it wasn't very hard to ignore the way her lips made him feel as his hands fumbled behind her neck to open the overpriced water bottle cap. He was doing pretty well in mentally separating himself from what was happening to him–he credited that to his acting experience, but the actor came to realize that might just overestimated himself too soon.   

The bottle fell off his hand and rolled to the plush sofa next to him when she drunkenly kissed the edge of his lips. Weak against his own instinct and want, he cupped her head and kissed her with a white hot passion. His moans were drowned by the music when she began grinding her hips against his prominent arousal. His heart soared and thundered against his chest in a way that shook him to his core.

If he doesn't stop this now, he would definitely do things that he would regret to his own best friend. His innocent, good girl, best friend. That was when he pushed her head and hips away from his taut body. He told her to stop, which she probably wouldn't be able to hear, even if she was sober. But his glare did the trick, enough that she slumped against his shoulder again. This time she mercifully just sat on his lap and not doing anything else that breaks his self control.

The floor vibrated with the music as he poured the water into the glass. He rubbed the length of her back comfortingly, just like the way she would do whenever he came home stupid drunk.

"Vodka," he lied as he offered her the water, knowing full well that to an already drunk people, water and vodka would taste just the same.

Henry couldn't help but smile in high amusement when she drank the water like she was the ultimate baddie in the club. He gave her a thumb up, grinning when she gulped the water in one go like it was a vodka shot. He then poured more water to the glass, offering it to her again and taking his own whiskey glass. They clinked their glasses and drank.

Henry laughed to himself at his adorable, wasted friend. Tricking her was as smooth as taking a candy from a baby.

His sense of victory was short lived the moment she made a face that anyone who knows how to party, would immediately perceive as a big, flying red flag. Quick-witted, the handsome British man grabbed a beer bucket in front of him and held it out for her with a chagrin as she puked her guts out.

Henry gathered her long, mussed dark hair in his hand as his other one held the bucket steady for her. After she was done, he put the bucket away and pulled her to his chest, stroking and massaging the back of her neck comfortingly.

What on earth happened to you, Lika? he wondered as she passed out in his arms.

A few moments later, after he settled the payment with his black credit card, Henry pulled her slumped form over his shoulder, carrying her like a weightless sack of flour into his car. After securing her seatbelt, he went to his side of the car and drove them home.

***

[Author's Note: There you go, a teaser for my new and first original fiction/chicklit. Please let me know what you think so far of the teaser and whether or not I should continue this book. Thanks a lot!!!]