All our lives

Chapter 2

She was alone. Leaning on her elbows against the balustrade, her back turned to the door and to the area where all the action was happening, she seemed rather indifferent to everything.

Long legs, clad in tight leather pants, an asymmetrical dark green top covering only a fraction of that fine ass that David had raved about. She was good looking and she was not shy about showing it. He went near her and leaned against the balustrade too.

"I was starting to think you're not interested," she said as soon as his arms touched the concrete, not even looking at him. She had a pleasant voice, almost velvety, with an inconclusive accent. She could be local just as much as she could be from any other part of the globe.

He didn't respond immediately. It made no sense to act all unapproachable since he was the one that had followed her outside, but a little hard-to-get playing he could do. He liked determined women, however, he didn't like the ones who acted like they owned him from the first second. Like it went without saying that he was disposed to crawl for the right pair of lean legs. He was a little bit disappointed in that start and there was no actual reason to be so. What the hell did he want? Spiritual connection? Meaningful conversation? What for? Wasn't it better for both parts if everything was out in the open right from the start? When did he forget how these things were supposed to work?

"In?" He asked trying to keep a balance between unimpressed and interested.

"In offering yourself what you're craving for," she said and finally turned to him. Her eyes burned him and when he turned to face her, their intensity took his breath away. That was the most unusual color he had ever seen and he vaguely wondered if she was wearing lenses. That combination of brown, green, and gold, especially gold, could not be natural. It took all his power to go along with his self-imposed distant attitude.

"And what would that be?" He gave her his best superior, yet still seductive, playful smile.

A shadow of a smile passed over her full lips and he felt the desire to crush them with his own dangerously building inside him. A sudden gust of wind slightly waved her hair and filled his nostrils with her scent. It was familiar in a very strange way and it sparked his imagination. Slowly and steady, he was losing the reins of whatever game they were playing.

"You don't know what you're craving for, Mr. Bongiovi?"

She put the right amount of sarcasm and playfulness in that question to stay away from becoming insolent and making him turn on his heels and foot it from there. Besides, her question was valid. Did he know? Yeah, you do..."Sleep, you want to sleep," his very practical side emerged. Oh, if only he could get a few hours of good rest. He so needed it. He pictured himself peacefully sleeping in a big, comfy bed...in a bed where he was not alone. "Her, you want her," his somehow practical, but way more sinful side kicked in. Vivid images of her naked body tangled up in white sheets, her skin covered in beads of sweet sweat, nails biting flesh, her back arching in an ecstasy that consumed both of them, made him shiver inwardly.

"That's only what you assume you should crave for," she smiled a little amused.

Was it that evident he was having an internal battle over what he wanted or not? He used to be quite good at hiding those contradictory tendencies. On the other hand, he was the first one to say he was not what he used to be, so it was possible for him to have lost some of that capacity.

"Since you seem to know me so well..." he made a pause so she could tell her name.

"Amser," her name came as a whisper in another wisp of air. It was unusual, perfectly fitting those hypnotic golden eyes, and it sparked again that first instinct that said "Danger! Run!". He was not even amused by his urge this time, he was slightly confused. He was no runner. He was a fighter.