– I have a boyfriend – I replied automatically, not even bothering to give him more than a fleeting glance, and turned back to my lemon balm tea.
My relationship status evidently didn't deter the man, as his voice reached my ears again within ten seconds.
– I know – he said, sounding quite pleased with himself. – And that doesn't bother me.
I raised my tired gaze to the stranger, still unable to place him in any category of people I knew.
– Do we know each other? – I asked, forcing a polite tone.
– I remember you – the stranger replied with a broad smile, and there was a devilish glint in his eyes—a hunter's gleam I had often seen in this place before I ended up in Victor's arms. – We met here a while ago. You danced with me and then hit me because you had to defend your boyfriend. Remember?
The pieces clicked together in my mind. I gave him a sickly sweet, forced smile. Indeed, I had punched that pretty face of his here in early October.
– Of course, I remember – I replied in a voice as venomously sweet as my smile. – Such a beautiful face is hard to forget.
The blond man didn't smile, and his expression remained impassive. Maybe for a tiny moment, a shadow of impatience crossed his face.
For safety, I reached one hand to the shaft of my high boot, where I still carried a small knife. Some old habits were worth keeping.
– I could say the same about yours – he said, leaning closer. – I came here often hoping we'd meet again.
– And why is that? – I asked, leaning back to avoid inhaling his alcohol-laden breath, then crossed my right leg over my left, creating an additional invisible barrier between us.
The blond finally smiled, but it was more of a grimace than a friendly expression.
– I think I owe you a favor for that gift you gave me back then – he continued with that same unsettling pseudo-smile. – But I don't hit women. Still, I think I deserve some kind of compensation from you.
– You got the same as you gave my boyfriend back then – I replied in a cold, matter-of-fact tone. – You don't deserve anything more.
I turned ostentatiously to show him I considered the conversation over, but it didn't have much effect.
– You were willing – the blond continued. – Why the charade?
I sighed heavily, asking myself why I had decided to sit at the bar when I could have just as easily enjoyed my tea upstairs at Mirabeli's.
– You thought I was willing – I stated dryly. – I was only dancing.
– Girls who don't want something more don't dance like that – the blond said with absolute conviction. – You wanted me. You started it.
– You've met too few girls and have a misguided view of us – I dryly concluded. – I was just dancing.
A shadow of impatience flickered across the blond's face.
– You hit me, and then the bouncer threw me out on my ass – he snapped accusingly.
– For some reason, he must have thought you deserved it more. – I shrugged nonchalantly. – I'm not going to argue about it with you. It was nice.
I turned my back on him and hopped off the bar stool, but before I could walk away, the blond grabbed my wrist and held me in place.
– I'm not here to argue – the blond snarled.
I looked at his hand clenched around my wrist as if it were an exceptionally ugly bug, and then I looked at his face with the same disdain. Meanwhile, the little voice inside me growled – "You're making a big mistake, buddy".
– I suggest you let go of me and never reach for something that doesn't belong to you again – I said in an icy tone.
– I'll take what I deserve myself – he replied, his voice dripping with menace. – I offered you a blow job and you're going to give me one, or I'll screw you wherever I want.
– Admirable persistence and an amazing memory, but nothing's going to happen – I retorted dryly.
– It will – the blond guy insisted stubbornly. – You're going to come with me now and finish what you started then, and I'll come in your mouth.
– Because you think you deserve it? – I scoffed, looking at him like something disgusting stuck to my shoe. – You must be mistaken. If you can't handle it yourself, you'll have to find someone else willing. Or you know what? Hire someone.
– I'm not joking – the blond guy said, his voice full of anger.
– Neither am I – I growled quietly, pressing the small knife I had pulled from my boot against his neck. His already wide pupils dilated even more. – If you don't have anything hard and sharp in your pants other than your dick, finish your drink nicely and enjoy this place, because it might be the last time they let you in. Know your limits. And when a girl says no, it means no, no matter what she did with you before.
I felt his body shudder, muscles tensing. He didn't move, just stared at me with a dumbfounded expression.
– Is there a problem? – Alek asked from behind me, appearing out of nowhere.
– Get your hands off my girlfriend! – shouted Victor, who showed up right behind him and grabbed the blond guy by the shirt on his chest.
YOU ARE READING
Butterfly's Year
Romance" - We are in a church, - I remarked sensibly. - Absolutely, - he agreed with a pleasant purr that vibrated between my legs. - Your parents are standing right there, - I whispered, discreetly pointing to his mom and dad standing in front of the alta...
