DEFINITELY,Maybe...

CHAPTER-8 THE DICTATOR

POV-DAMIAN

I was still puzzled that evening at the amazing response from the Oh-so-stoic Ashleigh. I've coined her new nick name, The Grenade. Highly inflammable and unpredictable.

Every girl had succumbed to my touch, even before I touched her... Just in anticipation. And Iron woman went and ruined my record. What she thought of herself was beyond my pea-brain's capacity.I mean no one can ever resist my touch after all.

I walked to the mini-bar stashed in my room and pulled out a McDowell's beer. I stood in front of my mirror and looked up to down. I was not that bad looking. Even in my fitted white tee I looked pretty decent. Hell I am "The Hottie".

I snapped out of it and my eyes widened as I realized I was appraising myself. I was turning into The Grenade's gay girl. Julio Ricardo something... Tomorrow I'd wake up with eye shadow and lipstick. I took a hurried swallow of my beer. Over my coffin, I thought indignantly, I refuse to leave so many vaginas hanging.

I smirked at my wicked comment and continued to finish my beer as I plugged in my iPod dock and played the AC/DC playlist. I could use some pure unadulterated rock.

I grinned as Highway to Hell began and wondered how fitting it was that I was just thinking about The Grenade. She wouldn't just be my highway to hell but would be my express pass to hell.

I'm sure with the dreams I'm having of her, Satan would personally be decorating my room down there.

With special honeymoon suite privileges.

I almost surrendered myself into sleep as I listened to the banging metal guitars but my ever ready phone beeped. I opened it to see a message from Matt.

Meet me at The Dictator in 15.

I could imagine Matt typing the message down, impatient about meeting me. I called out to Bob. "Hey! Bob, where are the Aventador keys?" I grinned when I imagined my white Lamborghini beauty in the garage.

It was my prized possession. She was a beauty. I sighed as I almost felt the V12 engine beckoning to me. The 700 hp ready to drive me out of my mind. I could squeal like a horny 13 year old imagining its torque. Ah, well, let's hit the road baby...

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After an exhilarating drive in my love, I handed a wad of 500 dollars to the valet just so he could take extra care of it. Hey, she's my baby after all. I walked into the most talked about pub of all times in our town. The Clifford's really knew how to escalate a beer joint into one of the best hang out spots.It was inspired by my all time favorite movie, The Dictator. No guy on earth would dislike that flick.

I walked into the pub and saw the one person who'd cheer anyone's day up. I involuntarily grinned at him. He was standing on the bar counter waving at the crowd. Like he was the emcee of the night.

He was howling into the microphone as he said, "Welcome to The Dictator, Gentlemen and the lovely ladies who have the amazing luck to make it into my bed tonight..." he winked at his enraptured crowd.

He shook his head around as he imitated a pole dancer, his dumb blonde hair falling all over his face. That earned a howl of laughter from the audience. His black eyes twinkled with mischief as he continued, "This place is known for its amazing liquor, handpicked by me..."

"Yeah right, lazy bum" I muttered.

"The food is so great; it'll make you poop rainbows..." He chuckled. Everyone erupted into a few more laughs. "If you don't walk out of this club with liver cirrhosis then either you have no taste buds or you were too busy trying to get laid. Last but not the least; we love you here at The Dictator... And please keep our business running." He jumped off the counter. Oh yeah that's just him.