Lierotica One-shots

Upss...

The trip was supposed to be simple. Fly in. Attend the event. Network. Fly home.

That had been the plan. But plans had a funny way of collapsing—especially when it came to me.

I looked down at the outfit in my bag. I had packed a club outfit the moment I decided I was going out tonight. Go dancing. Have a few drinks. Maybe meet a guy, have my fun, and leave.

It wasn't like I would ever see him again, right?

The elevator doors reflected my image back at me. I checked myself in the mirror.

My heels made my legs look longer, my skirt was short, and my hair and makeup were done better than I had managed in months.

I almost didn't recognize myself.

I felt confident.

A little bitchy.

Dangerous, even.

The night air was warm as I walked toward the club a friend had recommended. She had come to this city before and swore it was the best place to go if you wanted to have fun.

A tall bouncer stood at the door. He barely glanced at my ID before stamping my wrist and letting me in. Inside, the club wasn't too busy yet. Perfect.

I leaned across the bar and ordered a drink to warm up. After a few minutes the music started getting louder, heavier, the bass vibrating through the floor.

By my third drink the dance floor had filled. I stepped into the crowd. No one knew me here. And I was having fun.

Real fun.

I danced without thinking, enjoying the music, the lights, the freedom of being somewhere completely anonymous.

After a few songs I headed back to the bar for another drink.

"I'll have what she's having." A voice said beside me. I had to look up.

He was tall. Dark hair slightly messy. A faint accent I couldn't quite place.

And he was looking at me like I was a full-course meal. I took a sip of my drink. "Having fun?" he asked.

"I actually am," I said. He smiled. "I'm glad. It definitely looks like it."

He tilted his head slightly.

"Mind if I take you for a spin?"

I finished my drink in one go and pointed to the empty glass.

"Only if you're buying." He chuckled and ordered another round of drinks—plus a few shots of something that looked dangerously strong.

The conversation flowed without effort. Jokes landed easily. That kind of rare, dangerous chemistry where silence didn't feel awkward. It felt charged.

We danced together for a while. Then somehow we ended up leaving the club and walking to another one.

I had a ridiculous plastic cup shaped like a giant penis filled with something neon and alcoholic.

He carried a coconut drink someone had handed him at the bar.

We walked down the street laughing, talking about absolutely everything and nothing at the same time.

At some point I noticed a street vendor selling shirts with ridiculous phrases. We ended up buying a couple of them, along with some funny-looking glasses that made us look even more ridiculous.

We kept walking down the street until we reached my hotel. "Well... this is me," I said, gesturing toward the entrance. "Thanks for the night. And all the fun."