Mafia Princess

Chapter Four

New Story...I'm attempting a drabble. Rather, my version of drabble...a 1000 words or less per chapter. (Dear God, I'm afraid.) But excited, too. It'll force me to be more forward with my plotlines and yeah. Anyhow, none of this mine. I'm not, nor ever will be, Stephenie Meyer. I just like to play with her characters.

Chapter Four

"Damn, Bella, I should have bought that dress," Angie said as she stared at my outfit. It was a black halter dress that exposed a fair amount of my chest. The skirt was dangerously short. We were in line to get into Verdant, a new club in the heart of downtown Seattle. "Your tits look fucking hot. I'd do you."

"You did. Remember your twenty-first birthday?" I snickered. "We made out like horny teenagers, with some boob gropage."

"I don't remember that," Angie said, twirling her fingers in her long brown hair.

"That's because you were blitzed, Angie," I said, looping my arm with hers. "Your prerogative for turning twenty-one, sweet cheeks." We got to the front of the line. The bouncer appraised us, leering at our bodies. Angie was more conservative than me and gave him a shy look. I just cocked my hip, pursed my lips and pressed my breasts together to get in for free.

It worked.

Angie and I walked into the club, striding to the bar and ordering some booze. We slammed a few shots before we went out on the dance floor. Some dubstep song was pounding, making the dance floor move like a living organism. Angie and a few of our friends, Jessica, Lauren and Maria, began dancing seductively with each other. Jessica, Angie and I went to the same schools and were essentially family. Angie and Jessica's mom was my mom's sisters. I knew Lauren from college; she was one of my sorority sisters. Not like I participated in the sorority. Maria was a friend of Jessica's from her university.

As we danced, a few guys watched us. My guess was that they expected us to start licking each other's pussies on the dance floor. Highly unlikely boys. I've kissed a girl and I didn't like it. Sorry, Katy Perry, cherry chapstick isn't my thang. Cock is. A few brave guys descended into our little group. A short, hairy guy wrapped his arms around my waist, grinding his tiny dick into my ass.

I didn't want him. He smelled like Old Spice and reminded me of my Uncle John, Emmett's 'dad.' Now, over by the bar, there was a tall, sexy drink of water with reddish hair.

Hmmmm, he'd probably be fun in bed.

He wore all black. His hair was sexily disheveled. It looked like someone ran their fingers through it as he was fucking them. His nose was straight. His lips were pink and pouty, begging to be kissed. His brows were thick, but groomed, unlike his face. On his cheeks was some attractive stubble that probably would feel so amazing between my legs as he licked my pussy.

"Okay, Hobbit," I spat, twisting away from my troll-like friend. "Stop humping my ass."

"Come on, doll face," he said, shimmying his hips pathetically. "You're hot and we'd make great babies together."

"Yeah, not a line you use at a club when you want to get fucked," I said, pursing my lips. "I'm twenty-one, so not ready to be a momma. Go to the bingo hall, old man, find yourself a wife there."

"Bitch!" Hobbit snarled. He grabbed my wrist. I twisted his arm easily, shoving him into the crowd. Like the Red Sea, the parted and he fell on his face.

"Touch me again, douchebag, and I won't hesitate to break something," I hissed. I stomped off the dance floor, pissed as hell that some gross guy felt that it was okay to touch me like that. Striding up to the bar, I slammed down a hundred dollar bill. "Tequila. Patron, if you have it," I demanded of the cute bartender. "Make it a double."

"Awfully strong liquor for such a little girl," said a velvety voice.

"I'm not a little girl," I said, turning towards the voice. It came from the sexy man with the tousled hair.

"I can see that," he smirked, giving me a slow, appraising look.

"You want more proof?" I purred, looking up at him through my eyelashes, placing my arm on his muscular forearm. He shuddered when I touched him and wet his lips with his pink tongue. I focused my attention on his eyes; they were vibrantly green. They darkened slightly before they cleared.

"Probably not, little one," he sighed. He lifted my hand from his arm and kissed my knuckles. Then, he handed me back my money, paying the bartender. "It's on me." With a wink, he left me, confused and wanting more from the sexy stranger.

A/N: Pictures of Verdant are on my blog (link on my profile). Find me on Facebook: Tufano79's Twilight Fanfiction Appreciation or on Twitter: tufano79. Leave me some!

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